After several weeks of traveling to the outer reaches of the St. Louis area, the WGNSS Botany Group pinned their hopes on seeing good fall colors closer to home at Rockwoods Reservation in Wildwood. Despite its proximity to St. Louis, Rockwoods offers visitors a taste of the Ozarks with its mix of dry, rocky ridges, cool, moist ravines, and forested slopes featuring a variety of woodland types depending on substrate and exposure. Several trails are on offer, but the group chose the Rock Quarry Trail as the most likely to provide a diversity of plants and color.
Hard maples ablaze!
A large (seemingly misplaced) Taxodium distichum (bald cypress) tree right at the trail entrance captured our attention, and numerous globular cones, still green at this point in the season could be seen within its crown. Bald cypress trees are often attacked by a small fly called the cypress twig gall midge (Taxodiomyia cupressiananassa—family Cecidomyiidae) which produces globular galls on the twigs that can be mistaken for immature cones, but despite thorough searching none were found.
As we started up the rocky trail, John noticed several freshly fallen leaves on the ground under a large(ish) tree and picked one up for the day’s first “pop quiz.” Morus (mulberry) or Tilia (linden or basswood), two unrelated trees that bear similar-looking leaves, were the early guesses, but which? The shape of the leaf base—usually symmetrical in the former and asymmetrical in the latter—can be useful but is not consistent. A better way is to break the leaf petiole to check the color of the sap that exudes—milky in the former and clear in the latter. In this case, it was milky, identifying the tree as Morus rubra (red mulberry).
Our late summer and early fall this year was unusually dry with almost no rain from the beginning of August until near the end of October. This year’s fall floral display has suffered as a result, with many of the plants we are seeing in flower now looking rather pitiful compared to if they had grown under more favorable conditions. The recent rains may not have been enough to “save” the season, but the landscape has “perked up” a bit in their wake. By early November, Solidago (goldenrods) and Symphyotrichum (true asters) make up the bulk of the anticipated plants in flower, and we were fortunate to see blooms of several species in these two genera. These included not only some species that we have seen in the past weeks, such as Solidago ulmifolia (elm-leaved goldenrod), Symphyotrichum anomalum (many-rayed aster), Symphyotrichum patens (spreading aster), and Symphyotrichum lateriflorum (calico aster), but also a few that we have not.
The bulk of these were located in or near a small “glade” on a southwest-facing not far from the trail entrance. The patch of xeric habitat is not a true glade, but rather a scar of past quarrying activity on the southwest-facing limestone slope that has resulted in a glade-like habitat. It was here that a few patches of Solidago rugosa (rough-leaved or wrinkle-leaved goldenrod) were found. This species is similar to S. ulmifolia but usually has multiple stems and sessile leaves with the margins not as coarsely toothed and the veins more deeply impressed, giving the leaf a rugose appearance (on which the species name is based).
Solidago rugosa (wrinkleleaf or rough-stemmed goldenrod—family Asteraceae) inflorescence.
Solidago rugosa (wrinkleleaf or rough-stemmed goldenrod—family Asteraceae) leaves.
We have seen Symphyotrichum oblongifolium (aromatic aster) in true glades the past few weeks (at Victoria Glades and Fults Hill Prairie), and we saw it blooming in this “pseudo glade” as well. Amongst the several plants of this species, however, was a single blue-flowered aster that did not exhibit the same profusely branched and many-leaved growth. This turned out to be the slightly more conservative (CC = 7) Symphyotrichum laeve (smooth blue aster), identifiable by its smooth, completely hairless, narrowly elongate leaves that clasp the stem at the base.
Symphyotrichum laeve (smooth blue aster—family Asteraceae) flower.
Symphyotrichum laeve (smooth blue aster—family Asteraceae) stem and leaves.
Just beyond the glade and reentering the dry woodland, a single white-flowered aster was seen and determined to represent Symphyotrichum urophyllum (arrowleaf aster) based on its leaves—heart-shaped at the base and gradually becoming more arrowhead-shaped and sessile to nearly sessile further up the stem—and dense, cylindrical cluster of white flowers at the top of the plant.
Symphyotrichum urophyllum (arrowleaf aster—family Asteraceae) stem and leaf.
Moving further along the trail, the substrate transitioned from limestone to chert, which was accompanied by the appearance of more acid-loving lichens, mosses, and plants such as Vaccineum pallidum (lowbush blueberry) and Cunila origanoides (American dittany), a few plants of the latter still exhibiting blooms in good shape. The finely divided leaves of Viola pedata (bird’s foot violet), a characteristic occupant of upland forest openings having dry, cherty soils, were common along the steep trailside bank in this area.
Further up the trail along the ridgetop, we saw a single plant representing yet another acidophile and first sighting for the season—Solidago hispida (hairy goldenrod). This species can be recognized by its single stem, erect, narrow cluster of yellow flowers at the top of the plant, distinctly hairy leaves and stems (especially at the base), and larger basal leaves. It typically inhabits dry, open, and rocky woodlands, especially those with acidic substrates.
Solidago hispida (hairy goldenrod—family Asteraceae) upper stem leaves and inflorescence.
A long gentle descent off the ridge top took the group gradually down into a deep ravine with a tall, dense canopy that contrasted distinctly with the dry, rocky, more open forests seen to that point. Muted browns and yellows of oaks and hickories gave way to vibrant golds, oranges, and reds of hard maples. Polystichum acrostichoides (Christmas fern) was abundant on the north-facing slopes, the darkened tips of their fertile fronds conspicuous against the much more green rest of the plant, and two other fern species were noticed as well: Adiantum pedatum (northern maidenhair fern), a deciduous species with its fronds just starting to senesce, and Asplenium rhizophyllum (walking fern), an evergreen species that spreads vegetatively (“walks”) by rooting to form new plantlets whenever the tips of its long, undivided leaves touch moist substrate. Lindera benzoin (spicebush) was also abundant in the more mesic habitat now being traversed, their just-formed flower buds now sufficiently developed to distinguish male (larger buds) from female (smaller flower buds) plants at a glance.
Backlit leaves of Asimina triloba (pawpaw) under a canopy of blazing yellow Acer saccharum (sugar maple).
The trail ends up the road a ways from its start, requiring a short roadside walk to return to the parking lot. Despite the presence of asphalt, the group remained on the lookout for plants of interest in the now riparian forest corridor paralleling the road. A fourth goldenrod—Solidago altissima (tall goldenrod)—was seen (its identity confirmed by rubbing its leaves with the fingers to feel its roughness), but the biggest attention getter was a spectacularly large Ilex decidua (deciduous holly or possumhaw) bearing a profusion of bright orange-red berries.
After visiting Salt Lick Point Land & Water Preserve a few weeks ago, the WGNSS Botany Group continued its exploration of the Mississippi River bluffs in southern Illinois by visiting Fults Hill Prairie, a 532-acre preserve 13 miles south of Salt Lick Point. In addition to upland forests and glades, Fults Hill Prairie features the largest complex of high-quality loess hill prairie still existing in the state. This diversity of habitats correlates with a rich diversity of plants, which at this time of year is exemplified by the classic fall genera Solidago (goldenrods) and Symphyotrichum (true asters). While late October is a bit past peak bloom and the persistent precipitation that only began a few days earlier after an extraordinarily dry previous three months further dampened expectations, a decent-sized group of intrepid explorers nevertheless defied the forecast, steep wooden stairway, and slippery final ascent (along with the subsequent descent) to explore the area’s diversity and admire its bluff-top views.
View of the Mississippi River valley from Fults Hill Prairie Nature Preserve.
Some of the same goldenrods and asters that the group saw a few weeks ago at Salt Lick Point were again seen during the initial ascent. Among the more conservative of these were Solidago buckleyi (Buckley’s goldenrod), Solidago drummondii (cliff goldenrod), and Symphyotrichum anomalum (many-rayed aster). Less conservative (i.e., more commonly encountered) counterparts also were seen such as Solidago ulmifolia (elm-leaved goldenrod) and Symphyotrichum patens (spreading aster). In all cases, the plants exhibited precious few pitiful flowers due to the combination of late season and the drought-compromised display, but this didn’t prevent the group from practicing their identification skills based on non-floral characters.
Ascending the steep rocky slopes, the canopy was dominated by Quercus muhlenbergii (chinquapin oak)—an indicator of the thin, rocky soils underfoot. As the group continued to ascend, Quercus alba (white oak) also began to appear and eventually replaced Q. muhlenbergii as the dominant oak, signaling the presence of deeper deposits of the wind-blown loess soils that characterize the hilltops. Further up, on the south- and west-facing slopes at the top, such soils are unable to hold sufficient moisture to support the growth of trees. As a result, despite the presence of deep soils, the forest gives way to the first of two large hilltop prairie remnants featured in the preserve. A lone, Quercus stellata (post oak) stood sentry atop the prairie, adding to the diversity of oaks seen and framing a gorgeous view from the prairie across the valley below.
A lone Quercus stellata (post oak—family Fagaceae) stands sentry atop a loess hill prairie.
Entering the woodlands along a remnant 2-track belying the past presence of a farm, the group encountered a third species of blue-flowered aster whose cordate, scabrous leaves, pubescent stems, and distinctly winged leaf petioles identified it as Symphyotrichum drummondii (Drummond’s aster). This and another more commonly encountered aster, Symphyotrichum lateriflorum (calico aster), were found scattered along the sides of the 2-track until the group began its descent down into the second large loess prairie remnant.
Symphyotrichum drummondii (Drummond’s aster—family Asteraceae) leaf and petiole.
Also along the 2-track, but only in one small area, the group observed Sceptridium dissectum (cut-leaf grape fern, formerly Botrychium dissectum) in “flower” with mature fertile fronds. The finely divided leaves identified the plants as var. dissectum, which is a bit less common than var. obliquum.
Sceptridium dissectum var. dissectum (cutleaf grapefern—family Ophioglossaceae).
The diversity of oaks seen increased as the group traversed the forests along the 2-track, with Quercus velutina (black oak) becoming co-dominant with Q. alba. Numerous freshly-fallen twigs littered the 2-track due to the recent rains, and the shapes of some of the leaves seemed to suggest they might be from the more southerly Quercus falcata (southern red oak); however, careful examination of their lobes along with newly-formed buds and fully-developed acorns confirmed them, nevertheless, to be Q. velutina.
Still, the diversity observed oaks increased to five species when we began encountering Quercus shumardii (Shumard’s oak), including one particularly grand old tree whose spreading main branches and broadly-formed crown whispered stories about the more open conditions that must have occurred around it during its youth.
Nearby, a rusty farm implement, actively being engulfed by trees that sprouted after the last time it saw any movement, further attested to the area’s long-forgotten days as a farm.
Old farm implement taken over by trees.
The diversity of goldenrods seen also continued to tick upwards along the 2-track as we encountered what was either Solidago atltissima (tall goldenrod) or Solidago canadensis (Canadian goldenrod). These two species are difficult to distinguish, especially when the foliage is wet since leaf pubescence is a key distinguishing characteristic, but the upland habitat initially suggested the latter since S. altissima prefers more mesic habitats. A number of other more mesic-preferring plant species were also noticed in the area, however, perhaps a result of the underlying deep loess soils, so a final determination was not made. It was upon the final approach towards and down onto the second main loess prairie remnant, however, that the diversity of goldenrods and asters really began to skyrocket. Near the edge of the prairie but still in the forest, we saw Symphyotrichum oolentangiense (pronounced oh-OH-len-tang-ee-IN-say) (azure aster)—easily identifiable by its blue flowers and long, narrow, arrowhead-shaped lower leaves that are rough and sandpapery to the touch. At the prairie edge Symphyotrichum turbinellum (prairie aster), identifiable by its many-branched growth habit, elliptic leaves with tapered bases, and long vase-shaped involucres, began to appear. Symphyotrichum sericea (silky aster) further padded the diversity totals, a small patch of plants with their distinctive silvery leaves occupying the farthest (and possibly driest) extent of the loess prairie ridge before it began dropping precipitously towards the towering limestone blufftop.
Kathy, Michael, and John examine plants in a loess hill prairie.
The most dazzling addition to the diversity, however, was Solidago rigidiuscula (stiff-leaved showy goldenrod). Until recently considered to be a variety of Solidago speciosa (showy goldenrod), the large showy inflorescences of this species are every bit as attractive as the latter, but the plants feature narrower leaves, and while the flowers had largely faded by this late date, the lower foliage turning brilliant red provided stunning contrast with the still-green upper leaves and more muted colors of the surrounding vegetation.
The group then began its long, slow, careful descent off the prairie and through the lower woodlands back to the parking lot. Separating the two, however, is a limestone glade that features a slightly different flora of prairie-associated species than the hilltop prairie due to its thin, rocky versus deep loess soils, and it was in these glades where the group saw the day’s ninth and final species of aster—Symphyotrichum oblongifolium (aromatic aster), distinctive by its branched growth with numerous small leaves amongst normal-sized leaves (and if there is still any doubt, a quick crush-and-smell of the latter reveals its highly aromatic nature). A sixth and final goldenrod also was seen on the rocky slopes just below the glade—Solidago radula (rough goldenrod), its short, clump-like stature and densely numerous, heavily scabrous, serrate leaves confirming its identity.
As the lone entomologist in the group, I had been keeping my eye out for any insect activity—particularly Oncideres cingulata (twig girdler), a longhorned beetle (family Cerambycidae) that appears only during fall and “girdles” twigs of hickory and certain other trees before laying eggs in them. Numerous such twigs were seen, and I picked up several in hopes of finding females still upon them—unfortunately, to no avail. In fact, but a single insect was seen all day, and even it was not until I had returned to the parking lot—a nymph of the distinctively green Zelus luridus (pale green assassin bug).
Zelus luridus (pale green assassin bug—family Reduviidae) nymph.
Welcome to the 15th “Collecting Trip iReport” covering the second 11-day insect collecting trip to eastern New Mexico this year. This trip, which took place on June 17–28, was a follow-up to “Act 1” on May 14–25 with the purpose of servicing “jug traps” placed on the first trip. Joining me this time was Rich Thoma, who has accompanied me on more field trips than anyone else over the past four decades! Initially I had planned to pick up the traps that I’d placed on the first trip; however, I found the idea of sampling just the early part of the longhorned beetle season to be unsatisfying and decided shortly before the trip to service the traps but leave them in place for another sampling period and make a third trip later in the season to retrieve them. It will be a coupe of months, however, before I can make that third trip, meaning the traps will be out for much longer than normal and making desirable any modifications that I can make to extend their effectiveness. To that end, I prepared larger bait bottles (500-ml capacity versus 250-ml) and purchased enough propylene glycol to fill the jug reservoirs to the limit of their capacity (1250 ml versus the 900 ml used previously). The prototype trap that I made prior to the trip seemed to work, so it was only a matter of deploying them in the field and keeping my fingers crossed. Similar to the last trip, we ended up making 16 visits to 16 different localities—15 in New Mexico, one in Oklahoma (versus 13 localities previously), but unlike last trip we also spent time at two localities (one in Oklahoma, one in Texas) strictly for hiking and observation.
Salt Plain National Wildlife Refuge Alfalfa County, Oklahoma Rich and I are repeating the 12-hour drive from St. Louis to Black Mesa State Park in the northwestern corner of the Oklahoma panhandle that I did last month with Mike Arduser. I decided not to do the dreadful I-44 through Tulsa route, even though it is quicker, because I really just dread the boredom of the interstates and especially dislike the traffic and highways around Tulsa. Instead, we cut into southern Kansas at the last mile in Missouri and skimmed the bottom edge of that state—a very scenic route—until dropping down into Oklahoma once we’d gotten past I-35. Since we were passing by Salt Plain National Wildlife Refuge and it had been probably ten or more years since we’d stopped there, we decided to take a look around the alkaline flats to see what tiger beetles we might see.
Alkaline flats at Salt Plain National Wildlife Refuge.
Ellipsoptera nevadica knausii (Knaus’ tiger beetle) was out in abundance, allowing easy cell phone photography.
Ellipsoptera nevadica knausii (Knaus’ tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) along water’s edge in alkaline flat.
There was also the occasional individual of the dreadfully pedestrian Cicindelidia punctulata punctulata (punctured tiger beetle), but none of the other alkaline flat specialties like Eunota circumpicta johnsoni (Johnson’s tiger beetle) or Eunota togata globicollis (white-cloaked tiger beetle) were seen.
Cicindela punctulata punctulata (punctured tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) along water’s edge in alkaline flat.
We were fooled, however, by a tiny species of “tiger beetle” that, upon closer inspection, proved to be a shore bug (Pentacora signoreti—family Saldidae).
Pentacora signoreti (shore bug—family Saldidae) along water’s edge in alkaline flat.
It was dreadfully windy (as it often is in the wide open reaches of the vast Great Plains), so nothing was found on the few flowers that were found along the trail. Not wanting to delay our arrival at Black Mesa this evening too much, we cut the visit short and continued on the way.
“Beetle’s-eye-view” of the alkaline flat.
The rest of the drive along the northern edge of Oklahoma was stunningly beautiful. Not only did we get to enjoy the non-interstate landscape and the more intimate experience it provided, but we also watched a spectacular storm system as it bloomed across the skies to the north and west. Radar and forecasts calmed our fears that we would experience it more directly—it was slated to sweep across Kansas but not touch Oklahoma, letting us admire stunning vistas of golden fields of sunlit wheat against a backdrop of blackened clouds …
Storm in Kansas over wheat in Oklahoma.
…and, as sunset approached, fiery skies peaking out between them.
The setting sun peaks between the storm and the wheat.
Black Mesa State Park Cimarron County, Oklahoma By the time we reached Black Mesa State Park, it was well dark, but we got camp set up with enough time left to enjoy a beer and relax a bit before walking the roads to see what beetles might be out and about. I was hoping to see Amblycheila cylindriformis (Plains giant tiger beetle), but our finds were limited to darkling beetles (Eleodes suturalis and E. longicollis)…
Eleodes suturalis (red-backed darkling beetle—family Tenebrionidae) “headstanding” at night in juniper woodland.
…a couple of Pasimachus californicus (California warrior beetle—family Carabidae)…
Pasimachus californicus (California warrior beetle—family Carabidae) at night in juniper woodland.
…and an interesting aggregation of Epicauta sp. prob. maculata species-group blister beetles (family Meloidae).
Epicauta sp. prob. bispinosa aggregated at night in juniper woodland.
Satisfied we’d given the area a good enough look, we settled into the fly-less tent to admire the stars while falling to sleep in the cool night air.
Unsettled skies at night portend trouble ahead.
After resting up a bit, we decided to head back out of the park (and, thus, into New Mexico) to nearby Queen to replenish our ice and liquids and then visit the Lincoln National Forest’s Sitting Bull Falls Recreation Area. Both of those decisions did not work out as planned. The (only) convenience store in Queen was closed, despite the posted hours of business stating they were open until 5 pm, so the little ice that we had left would have to last until the morning. Then, when we arrived at the turn off to Sitting Bull Falls, we saw that the area closed at 4 pm—less than an hour away. We drove to the entrance anyway, where we found a parking area for a trailhead and looked around a bit. The area was very lush, obviously having enjoyed the recent rains, but there was almost no insect activity to speak of. Our already tired legs didn’t help with our motivation, and we decided to call it a day and head back to the park.
Day 2
Conditions turned quickly and unexpectedly on us! There was no hint of rain in the local forecast, but we awoke at 2 am to drizzle coming through the roof of the tent and quickly installed the rain fly. It rained the rest of the night—sometimes heavily, and while we were able to eat breakfast and then break camp in the morning before heavy rains returned it was still a cold, windy, drizzly experience. (I’ve now camped here seven times in the last two years, and this is the fourth time I’ve experience blustery cold and/or rainy weather here!) We had planned to collect during the morning at our favorite nearby spot—a sandstone outcropping just east of Kenton where I have collected five new state records—two cerambycids and three buprestids—in the last few years. Steady rain and cold temperatures, however, cancelled those plans, and radar and forecasts made it appear we might spend the next two or three days dealing with such unless we made significant progress towards the south. We decided to go to our next stop—Mills Rim Campground—where I had the first set of my traps to service, and then see how conditions developed before deciding whether to stay or move on.
Mills Rim Campground Kiowa National Grassland Harding County, New Mexico Rains did let up as we approached Mill Rim Campground and while we were there, but only temporarily while cool (almost cold!) conditions persisted. We stopped on the road into the campground to check out a pile of recently-cut juniper wood hoping to see woodboring beetles, but all I saw was a solitary bee fly (though one I’d never noticed before—Aphoebantus sp. (bee fly—family Bombyliidae).
Aphoebantus sp. (bee fly—family Bombyliidae) in juniper woodland.
In the campground, I was pleased to see that all three traps were still in place, though the bait and reservoir liquid were both completely gone in them. I was also pleased to find that the traps redeployed nicely with my changes (larger 500-ml bait bottle and a larger volume—1250 ml—of diluted propylene glycol in the reservoir).
“Jug trap” hanging in ponderosa pine with two improvements: larger (500-ml) bait bottle, and larger volume of diluted propylene glycol (1250 ml instead of 900 ml).
Catch results, however, were a bit disappointing. The SRW and SRW/EtOH traps had lots of moths and Euphoria fulgida but no cerambycids, while the EtOH trap had nothing but a single E. fulgida (I suspect the trap reservoir may have been “dumped” during high winds). The white bottle trap had a few Acmaeodera spp. and about 12–15 bees, which I collected for my mellitologist friend Mike Arduser.
The “rim” of Mill Canyon.
Once all the traps had been serviced, the continuing rain and cold conditions made it an easy decision to keep moving south and forget about trying to collect or camp here!
“San Jon Hill” Quay County, New Mexico The forecasts showed temperatures about 10°F higher once we got as far south as San Jon, near which I had a set of traps that needed to be serviced, and about an hour further south was Oasis State Park where we would have a place to camp and possibly collect if the conditions were right. Conditions did indeed improve as we neared San Jon, with solid overcast skies beginning to brighten in the south and intermittent sun beginning to reach the ground. By the time we reached the spot where my traps were located, temps were well above 80°F and skies were partly sunny—but what wind!
We set about servicing the traps, and here I had another concerned calmed—this was the last place I had set traps last month, so the traps were the older style body made from shorter water jugs—nevertheless, the larger bait bottles fit inside the traps (barely), and the reservoir was able to handle the higher liquid amount. Results for the SRW and SRW/EtOH traps were nearly identical to Mills Rim—both filled with lots of moths and Euphoria fulgida but no cerambycids (or at least very few—I did see at least one as I dumped the catch into the plastic bag). Again, I bagged the catch from both traps for later sorting. The EtOH trap, unfortunately, was down—the hanging rope was cut, apparently snapped due to rubbing against a branch in the wind. Just in case the culprit was hominid, however, I installed a new trap in a different nearby tree where it couldn’t be seen from the previous spot. The white bottle trap was absolutely overwhelmed with both Acmaeoderamixta and A. ligulata (and hopefully other species as well) and bees (for Mike), which I bagged for later sorting. We spent another hour or so collecting, but it was not terribly productive for me—beating Prosopis glandulosa produced lots of leaf-footed bugs and tiny beetles from the flowers, but I kept only a single Cleridae. I also beat a lot of oaks (Quercus mohriana and Q. x undulata) hoping to find more Brachys barberi (got one last time) but found nothing except a couple of elaterids. I also swept several stands of Quercus havardii but found nothing but grasshopper nymphs. All of the Opuntia camanchica (tulip pricklypear) from which I had collected Acmaeodera spp. last time were bloomed out, but I paid attention to them anyway hoping to see cactus beetles and finally found one Moneilema armatum on the pad of one.
Moneilema armatum (black cactus longhorned beetle— family Cerambycidae) on Opuntia camanchica (tulip pricklypear cactus) in pinyon/oak/juniper woodland).
I also encountered a single plant in flower, from which I collected one Trichiotinus texanus (Texas flower scarab) and a couple of Euphoria kernii (Kern’s flower scarab). There were a few A. mixta on various flowers (primarily Thelesperma megapotamicum and Xanthisma spinulosa), but I let Rich have them and didn’t see any other species. Having satisfied ourselves that we’d gotten a good enough look, we continued south towards Oasis State Park.
Sunlit windmills stretch across the horizon under changeable skies.
Oasis State Park Roosevelt County, New Mexico Nice conditions and brightly sunlit windmills followed us during the 90-minute drive further south to our campground near Portales, with a spectacular bonus sunset greeting us upon our arrival.
Sunset on the Sand Dune Trail at Oasis State Park.
I quick ran over to the Sand Dune Trail to get a photo, knowing that colored sunsets of that sort are fleeting at best, and then we set about putting up camp and grilling some brats. Afterwards, we began our night walk to see what critters might be out and about, but first I wanted to go to a small, nicely-lit building near the restrooms to see what the lights may have pulled in (despite the presence of nearly full moon). At first I found only a few tenebrionids, though in nice variety and including one of the fantastically explanate tenebrionid Embaphion muricatum, and a crummy Cicindelidia punctulata chiricahuae (western subspecies of the punctured tiger beetle), but then I found several bolboceratine geotrupids—the large chunky Bradycinetulus fossatus, and several of the smaller Eucanthus sp. Then I saw a big something crawling frenetically nearby in the road, went over to look at it, and saw that it was a female Prionus arenarius—what a find!
Prionus arenarius (sandwalker prionid—family Cerambycidae) dead female on road through sand dune habitat.
There wasn’t much on the Sand Dune Trail loop, but another Embaphion muricatum on the loop and dead but perfectly intact specimens on the road through the campground of yet another Bradycinetulus fossatus and female Prionus arenarius—the two best finds of the night—made the walk worth it. Afterwards, we returned to the building lights to see if more Prionus (male or female) had arrived, but by then it was close to midnight and the cool night air had a decided “things are over” feel to it.
Arethaea mescalero (Mescalero thread-leg katydid—family Tettigoniidae) under light at night in sand dune habitat.
A species of straight-faced windscorpion (family Eremobatidae) under building light at night in sand dune habitat.
Day 3
We stayed dry all night and awoke to sunny skies early, but clouds increased as the morning progressed and the forecast called for rain starting around 10 am. Rich wanted to look around while we had the chance, but I’d seen enough and instead worked on my notes while he was out and about. Eventually we broke camp and headed out—no sooner had we done that then the rain started! We eventually learned that all this rain we were dealing with had a name—Tropical Storm Alberto, which had made landfall the day before in Mexico and was throwing moisture everywhere in its wake. At least it now made sense to us why the entire eastern half of the state was so persistently rainy no matter where we went. As we drove towards our next stop (Mescalero Sands Recreation Area), we formulated Plan B to blast all the way south and west to near Las Cruces, which seemed to be escaping the rains, and hole up there for the next two days until things cleared up. However, we arrived at the dunes under partly sunny skies and nicely warm, though quite windy, conditions.
Mescalero Sands Recreation Area Chaves County, New Mexico The first order of business was to service my jug traps, which I had hung in the Sapindus saponaria ssp. drummondii (western soapberry) stands that dot the highway rights-of-way along the edge of the sand dune area. This has been one of my best collecting spots over the years—being the only place where I have reliably found in numbers the beautiful lime-green Agrilus sapindi in association with the soapberry. Unfortunately, all three jug traps were empty—compromised in some way by the strong winds that seem to persist in this area. One trap was “spun around” the branch on which it was hanging, another dropped when the rope came undone, and the third simply swung wildly in the wind, throwing the bait bottle and emptying the reservoir. I elected not to rehang any of the traps here, having little confidence that I would be able hang them any more securely than I had already done. It’s a shame, because I was really interested in seeing what longhorned beetles the traps would pull, not only from the soapberrys in which they were hanging but also from the surrounding Quercus havardii (shinnery oak)-dominated sandhill shrubland. Right on queue, however, I found several A. sapindi and one Neoclytus mucronatus vogti on the soapberries as I was retrieving the last trap.
Agrilus sapindi (family Buprestidae) on foliage of Sapindus saponaria ssp. drummondii (western soapberry) in sand shrubland.
Also, though not an insect, I noticed a partial mammal cranium (missing the maxillae) half-buried in the sand. I picked it up and looked at it, thinking it might be a javelina because of the far rear-situated cranial crest. Then I noticed the other half of the cranium lying teeth-upwards nearby. The two pieces fit together nearly perfectly (some minor warping notwithstanding), and the large canine tusks convinced me even more so that it represented a javelina. I bagged it and will glue it together when I return home for display in my “bone shelf”!
Assembled fragments of collared peccary (Pecari tajacu) cranium found along roadside through sand shrubland.
As I started heading back to the car, I saw—and missed!—a Chrysobothris mescalero on the shinnery oak in that spot—damn! Happily, I did manage to sweep another individual from the plants back near where we parked. Continued sweeping failed to produce any more individuals, but what I really wanted to find was Agrilus hespenheidei—also beautiful green but completely unrelated to A. sapindi and which I have collected only sparingly in the past but failed completely to find on my most recent visit. I swept the grasses along the roadside and found none (for now!), then went into the recreation area entrance to retrieve the white bottle trap—it was overwhelmed with Acmaeodera spp. and bees, which I bagged and will sort later. Very little else was seen, and by the time I returned to the car Rich was satisfied with the myriad pollinating insects he’d collected off the soapberry flowers and specimens of A. sapindi and C. mescalero that he’d swept. It was still early enough in the day after refueling and rehydrating that we decided to visit the dunes proper and see what might be out.
Distant sand dunes frame an even more distant escarpment.
I wasn’t very optimistic about collecting in the dunes, given that paucity of insects seen in the shrubland along the highway and just inside the entrance, but there was still enough time left in the day to spend time here and not enough to move on to the campground near Roswell and collect there. For much of the time, my pessimism prevailed, as I did a bit of sweeping here and there and saw (but did not collect) only the occasional mutillid (velvet ant) and tenebrionid (darkling beetle). The scenery was nice, however, and the temperatures comfortable, and at the furthest point out we had a bit of fun “working” a common blotch-sided lizard (Uta standsburiana) female into a place where we were able to photograph her.
Me taking a photo of a Uta stansburiana (common side-blotched lizard) female. Photo by Richard Thoma.
On the way back, I happened to notice a buprestid sitting on the dried stem of Sporobolus giganteus (giant dropseed) and realized it was the one buprestid I was hoping to collect here—Agrilus hespenheidei! This led to a renewed round of sweeping in all the neighboring plants and others along the way back, resulting in several interesting captures such as an ataxiine cerambycid, one Macrosaigon sp., two Selenodon sp., and a couple of small weevils—but no additional A. heapenheidei! I also found an interesting little Eusattus sp. tenebrionid on the sand, so it was nice leaving the place knowing that I would not be “skunked” for the first time on the trip!
We drove through rain on the drive going west towards Roswell, and shortly afterwards I saw a male Texas brown tarantula (Aphonopelma hentzi) crossing the highway. I did a U-turn and went back to it to 1) move it off the highway so it wouldn’t get run over and 2) take photos of it. Several cars passed over it as we were backtracking, but fortunately none ran over it, and we had a clear road to turn around once again and pull over. We took a few quick photos while it was still on the road—one amazingly capturing the newly formed rainbow in the background—before a semi bearing down from the distance forced us to quickly “guide” it off the road. It really wanted to continue to the other side, so we had to be quite insistent on forcing it off the road, and after traffic cleared we coaxed it into a jar and delivered it to the other side of the highway all the way to the fenceline.
Aphonopelma hentzi (Texas brown tarantula—family Theraphosidae) after rain crossing road in mesquite chaparral (framed by rainbow!).
Bottomless Lakes State Park Chaves County, New Mexico We arrived at the park with some good daylight to spare and snagged the choicest campsite in the entire campground (why the people at the two already occupied sites didn’t take it is beyond me!), explored our new home for a bit, and then set about putting everything in place.
Premier campsite at Bottomless Lakes State Park.
As soon as we finished, we noticed a rain shower in the distance and debated the direction it was moving. I thought it would pass to our east, but within minutes it was raining—and a few minutes later it was pouring! But we watched in comfort under the large metal shelter covering our table and admired the incredible rainbow that formed over the canyon wall bordering the eastern side of our campsite.
Rains appearing on the horizon.
Rainbow-framed canyon walls at the edge of our campsite.
Eventually the rain stopped and we fired up some burgers on the grill. Wildlife competed for my interest while the burgers were cooking, apparently brought out by the fresh rain and coming darkness. These included a kangaroo rat (Dipodomys sp.) and a red-spotted toad (Anaxyrus punctatus).
Kangaroo rat (Dipodomys sp.—family Heteromyidae) after rain at night in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
Red-spotted toad (Anaxyrus punctatus—family Bufonidae) after rain at night in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
The fresh rain, coolish temps, and near-full moon made setting up the lights to attract insects out of the question, but after dinner when darkness had fully settled we walked the road through the campground to look for nocturnal beetles. I was hoping to find Amblycheila picolominii (Plateau giant tiger beetle), one of which had had found up on the rock slope the last time I was here, but I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of clambering over steep, wet rocks in the dark and settled for the pavement up to the beginning of the tent campground and back. Large tenebrionid darkling beetles were expected, thus the two we saw were no surprise, but what did surprise and delight us was another male tarantula—and not the common Texas brown tarantula (Aphonopelma hentzi) but the much less commonly encountered Chihuahuan gray (A. gabeli)! This was a delight and becomes the fourth species of tarantula I’ve found in the wild. We trailed it back and forth as it ambled along the road trying to get good photos, but it never stopped long enough to allow such. Eventually it did stop along the side of the road, where we took some “okay” photos before moving on.
Aphonopelma gabeli (Chiricahuan gray tarantula—family Theraphosidae) after rain at night in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
As we began to walk away, I had second thoughts and decided to try for one more frontal portrait shot, but I had to move a little plant stem that was obscuring the view. I did this as carefully as I could, but the tarantula sensed something and suddenly took off like a shot. I followed as it bolted across the road, where suddenly it stopped and hunkered down right out in the open—as if it had fled the danger and was now willing to wait it out for a bit before resuming its wandering. At that point, I was able to easily take the frontal portrait photos that I desired—all that following and frustration, when all I really needed to do was scare it and wait for it to stop running.
The sight a cricket does not want to see!
By the time we returned to the campsite, I was exhausted and turned in early (rare for me!).
Day 4
It started raining again around 2 am and didn’t really let up until after noon. We took advantage of the chance to update our field notes and process specimens before going into town to pick up a few supplies. It was still raining when we returned later in the morning, but only lightly and allowing us to stop at the cenote next to the visitor center. I never took the opportunity to look at one of the cenotes last time, so this was my first actual look at one of them.
Rich admites a “cenote” (Cottonwood Lake) at Bottomless Lakes State Park.
Chlorochroa ligata (conchuela bug—family Pentatomidae) mating pair on seedpod of Prosopis glandulosa (honey mesquite) in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
We headed back to our campsite and continued working on our field notes and adding captions to our photographs until the rain finally stopped around 1:30 pm, and by 2:30 conditions had dried out and temps warmed enough to warrant going out and collecting.
Plathemis subornata (desert skimmer—family Libellulidae) near cenote in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
I started out by hiking the ravine from our campground down to where it drained into a cenote (Pasture Lake) near the adjacent campsite and found lots of Sphenophorus aequalis (clay-colored billbug) on the ground near and within a stand of Schoenoplectus americanus (American three-square bulrush) along the lake margin where they were walking about, mating, and burrowing into the soil at base of the plants—especially dead remnants.
Sphenophorus aequalis (clay-colored billbug—family Curculionidae) near stand of Schoenoplectus americanus (American three-square bulrush) along cenote shoreline.
I also scoured the barren alkaline soil along the lake margin for tiger beetles and found a couple of Tetracha carolina (Carolina metallic tiger beetle) elytra and several adult Cicindelidia ocellata ocellata (ocellated tiger beetle). Before leaving the lake area I also snagged an Acmaeodera gibbula in flight and then wandered over to the area where I found Atriplex canescens (four-winged saltbush) infested with longhorned beetles (Amannus sp., which I still have not identified). I was hoping to see adults now emerged and in the plants, but none were seen. I also kept an eye out for buprestids on the Ephedra torreyana (Torrey’s jointfir) but never saw anything. I was starting to think buprestids were (puzzlingly) out-of-season as I wandered up into the picnic area where I found several things last time and quickly saw a beautiful Gyascutus planicosta obliterata adult sitting on the foliage of A. canescens. Over the next couple of hours I would collect a handful of these beautiful beetles. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen members of this genus in the field, and I’d forgotten whether they were skittish or sluggish—this one was the latter and let me take a nice close photo before obligingly dropping into the net. Probably it depends on temperature, as I remember collecting these in Texas in blazing hot conditions and seeing them zip off instantly and fly far into the distance upon sensing my approach. Today’s temps were much more modest (thankfully), so the adults were rather easy to collect.
Gyascutus planicosta obliterata (family Buprestidae) on foliage of Atriplex canescens (fourwinged saltbush) in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
As I looked for Gyascutus on the slopes and around the picnic area, I took the opportunity to beat the mesquites (Prosopis glandulosa)—especially those in flower. [Edit: the genus Prosopis was recently split up into several genera, with P. glandulosa being assigned to the new genus Neltuma. I don’t reject this new placement but will use the older, more familiar name on this blog until the new name receives greater acceptance.] Most of what I saw were leaffooted bugs, but I did pick up one more A. gibbula, one Acmaeoderopsis hulli, a few Epicauta sp., and a couple each of a darnine and a centrotine membracid. I also continued to inspect A. canescens plants for signs of infestation by Amannus but was unable to find any larvae or unemerged adults in the few living plants that I broke apart when they exhibited emergence holes. What I did find, however, was an Acmaeodera sp. partial cadaver of an adult that had failed to emerge. I was able to retrieve its elytral shield (Acmaeodera sp. have fused elytra, which they lift up during flight rather than spread apart like most other buprestids), and hopefully it will be enough to enable a species identification and a confirmed larval host plant association. By the time I looked at the last plant, it was going on 6 pm. I was hot, thirsty, and hungry, and I had a lot of specimens from previous days still to process, so I headed back to the campsite.
Rich admires another cenote (Pasture Lake) while I scale the canyon walls above.
It took a couple of hours to write up my notes and complete processing of the specimens I’d collected from the bottle trap yesterday at Mescalero Sands (I’m guessing there were at least 100, if not 200, Acmaeodera specimens as well as a few dozen bees for Mike). As darkness descended, the full moon rising in the east dampened any enthusiasm I may have had for putting up the full UV/MV (ultraviolet/mercury vapor) light setup, but what we did do was much simpler: just lay a UV light on a white sheet on the ground. Despite the increasingly intense moonlight, tiger beetles began to show up on and near the sheet. Eunota circumpicta johnsonii (Johnson’s tiger beetle) was the first to arrive and turned out to be abundant.
Eunota circumpicta johnsonii (Johnson’s tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) at ultraviolet light in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
Jundlandia lemniscata repaptisata (rouged tiger beetle) also was common, but it took longer for them to come in.
Jundlandia lemniscata rebaptisata (rouged tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) at ultraviolet light in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
What I was most recited about, however, were the two individuals of Cicindelidia tenuisignata (thin-lined tiger beetle) that showed up.
Cicindela tenuisignata (thin-lined tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) at ultraviolet light in saltbush/mesquite chaparral.
Rich also found a Tetracha carolina (Carolina metallic tiger beetle running on the ground nearby. Eventually we decided to walk the road—Rich was hoping to see snakes, and I was hoping to see Amblycheila picolominii (Plains giant tiger beetle), a single individual of which I had seen during my previous visit up on the gypsum/red siltstone slope bordering the campground. Neither of us saw what we were hoping to see, or anything else for that matter, so we returned to the campground. I still had Amblycheila on my mind, however, so I decided to go back up onto the slopes where I had seen the species before to at least give myself a chance of seeing it again. I clambered semi-directly to the spot where I had seen it before, continued across the slope to the northern canyon limit, and then went downslope a bit to traverse the again in the opposite direction. Right as I started across again, I found one ambling across the rocks much as the previous one I’d seen. This charged my motivation, and though traversing the slope several more times proved fruitless, I was still a happy camper!
Amblycheila picolominii (Plateau giant tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) on gypsum/red siltstone slope at night.
After returning to the campsite, I decided to explore the steep, narrow, canyon ravine behind our campsite, which I still had not yet done, and picked my way over the rocks to as far as I could go. I kind of expected/hoped to see Amblycheila, but not really—just wanted to explore the unique canyon feature. Near the furthest point I shine my headlamp on the steep clay slope at the bottom of the canyon wall and saw a Texas brown tarantula (Aphonopelma hentzi). It was not, however, just any ol’ Texas brown, but a female—recognizable as such by her relatively shorter legs and larger abdomen and also the fact that she was sitting right next to her burrow. I’m sure Madam will be rightly excited when she finds out we have a new pet named Bertha!
Aphonopelma hentzi (Texas brown tarantula—family Theraphosidae) near burrow on floor of narrow gypsum/red/siltstone canyon.
You’d think this would be the perfect swan song for the evening, but as I picked my way back down the canyon floor I spotted another A. picolominii, which made me want to keep exploring even more. This I did, going down to the spot along the Bluff Trail where I’d had so much success with Gyascutus earlier in the afternoon, but the only thing all this extra walking resulted in was an even later bedtime. Nevertheless, I couldn’t have been more pleased at finding six tiger beetle species during this visit (after finding only the single Amblycheila last time and thinking I was losing my tiger beetle mojo!).
Amblycheila picolominii (Plateau giant tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) on floor of narrow gypsum/red/siltstone canyon.
Day 5
Despite the great success we’d had collecting insects in Bottomless Lakes State Park the previous day or so, there was one thing I was glad to be leaving—the house flies! They swarmed our campsite in numbers I’d never seen before, relentlessly landing on everything including our supplies, hands, faces, etc. it then took an hour or so getting all of the thousand or so that had infiltrated our vehicle out of the vehicle as we drove towards our next stop in the southernmost tract of the Lincoln National Forest in Eddy Co. Before leaving Roswell, however, we had to stop by the “Alien Welcome Monument” at the edge of town. I was disappointed to see that my version of “Kilroy was here” graffiti from last time’s visit was gone (apparently the monument gets painted over periodically), so I added it back.
Rich (L) and me in the requisite Roswell alien selfie.
“Entomological graffiti.”
X Bar Rd Eddy County, New Mexico The gradual ascent from the desert floor up into the pinyon/oak/juniper zone of the mountains is among the remotest-feeling that I have ever experienced, and just shy of the National Forest boundary we found our next spot. My biggest concern was whether the area was still experiencing drought conditions, but we were happy to see that the area has actually received rain—enough in the last day or so to thoroughly wet the soil. We could see it in the way the area looked, with most of the oaks and acacias having sprouted new leaves and the surrounding slopes exhibiting a greenish “cast.” The catches from all three traps were similar to each other and to what we had seen further north—i.e., mostly moths, but without the Euphoria fulgida. The SRW and SRW/EtOH traps seemed to have caught more than the EtOH trap, but the difference was not as large as further north. I did see a few elaphidiine cerambycids in the first two (as I bagged them for later sorting), but not many. I was hoping to see my primary target—Purpuricenus opacus, but I also knew that it may be a bit early for that species (and with the prevailing droughty conditions I may never see it). The white bottle trap, on the other hand, was loaded with Acmaeodera spp. and bees (the latter which I kept for Mike). Seeing the fresh foliage on the plants in the area, I set about beating some of them hoping things were starting to come out. Beating Senegalia greggii (catclaw acacia), however, produced only a few chrysomelids, as did beating the oaks (Quercus grisea—gray oak, I believe). There was very little in bloom, and sweeping the roadside vegetation produced nothing. Even the the few Opuntia camanchica (tulip pricklypear cactus) from which I’d collected a fair number of Acmaeodera spp. last time were devoid of flowers. Hopefully the recent rains will continue to trigger further beetle emergence, and my traps will collect some of these over the next two months.
Chihuahuan spotted whiptail (Aspidoscelis exsanguis) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Klondike Gap Rd, Hamm Vista Lincoln National Forest Eddy County, New Mexico We were optimistic about what we might see at this, my highest priority location for the jug traps, as it was from here that the west Texas specialty Purpuricenus opacus was recently reared from oak. Since the previous spot had seen rain, it seemed likely that this one had as well. Sadly, the landscape turned bone dry as we approached—dust on the plants with no sign of fresh foliage proving that it hadn’t rained for some time. My spirits were further dampened when I found the SRW trap down due to a frayed and broken rope. I rehung the trap with replacement rope (I always bring a spare trap and parts just in case) and was pleased to find both the SRW/EtOH and EtOH-only traps still hanging and—remarkably—with even more numerous trap catches than at the previous spot despite the lack of rain. Again, I did see a few elaphidiine cerambycids in each, but not many, and not a single scarab. The real surprise, however, came with the white bottle trap—literally hundreds of Acmaeodera, perhaps three or four times as many as were in the bottle trap at the previous spot. There were even a couple of still-living beetles walking about on top of the mass of beetles that were testing the limits of the volume of propylene glycol in the trap, suggesting that the beetles are currently active even with the dry conditions—but where are they?! There are no flowers to speak of, and beating produced nothing, yet the beetles must be flying about. All I can do is hope that conditions will improve sometime over the next two months that the traps are out and that they will be able attract whatever emerges whenever that happens.
“Jug trap” supplies with bagged catch.
Dog Canyon Campground Guadalupe Mountains National Park Culberson County, Texas Last month when I came here with Mike, our only reason for coming here was that it was a campground close to my trap localities where we could spend the night after setting the traps and then move on the next morning. When we arrived, however, we were immediately captivated by the stunning beauty of the canyon, and we decided that my next trap run should include an extra day to allow some hiking and exploring. That’s exactly what I planned for this visit, with two nights of camping bracketing a full day of hiking. The approach to the park is, in itself, spectacular, starting with a steep drop off the plateau and an expansive vista of the valley below—the highway leading to the park appearing as a thin, straight line between the massively tall canyon walls on either side.
Queen Hwy approach to Dog Canyon, Guadalupe Mountains National Park.
A small sign at the park border announces that you are also entering the great state of Texas!
A Texas welcome!
To our surprise, the campground was deserted—a marked contrast from last time when we were lucky enough to snag the last available campsite as Saturday night walk-ins. I can’t say I was disappointed, as that was my only real complaint about my previous visit. We weren’t totally alone, however—Kitty quickly stopped by to see us, at once skittish yet desperately wanting affection (and probably food). Of course, insect collecting is not allowed in a national park without a permit, so this visit was strictly for observing and (hopefully) lots of photographs. Both of these began shortly after we finished dinner (including Kitty, who scored a couple of sardines) and dusk had settled over the canyon when several large male Prionus californicus flew by at our campsite.
Prionus californicus (California prionus—family Cerambycidae) at dusk in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Afterwards, we decided to walk the gravel road through the campground and back past the state line to the paved highway in hopes of seeing snakes and other critters. We saw no snakes, but we say plenty of other critters—Xyloryctes thestalus (western rhinoceros beetle—family Scarabaeidae), a couple of Omorgus sp. (carcass beetles—family Trogidae), Scolopendra polymorpha (common desert centipede—family Scolopendridae), a juvenile tarantula (likely Aphonopelma sp.—family Theraphosidae), and my favorite—a couple of Amblycheila picolominii (Plateau tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae).
Xyloryctes thestalus (western rhinoceros beetle—family Scarabaeidae) on road at dusk through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Omorgus sp. (skin beetle—family Trogidae) on road at dusk through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Scolopendra polymorpha (common desert centipede—family Scolopendridae) on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Aphonopelma sp. (family Theraphosidae) juvenile on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Amblycheila picolominii on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
We also saw numerous tenebrionid beetles in diversity far too great to photograph as well as two species of toads.
Red-spotted toad (Anaxyrus punctatus) on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Great Plains toad (Anaxyrus cognatus) on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Smile for the camera!
The most puzzling observation of the evening was two large ants apparently locked in tug-of-war combat—each momentarily gaining momentum and then just as quickly losing it to the other in a back-and-forth seesaw battle. Perhaps our local formicid specialist James Trager can shed light on this observation. Edit: James writes:
This looks like a couple of major workers of Camponotus sp. tussling at a territorial boundary of two colonies. These look like and might be C. americanus, but I’m frankly not sure about the ID from that location, without looking at specimens.
Camponotus sp. (carpenter ants—family Formicidae) playing “tug-of-war” on road at night through juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Day 6
Bush Mountain Trail Guadalupe Mountains National Park Culberson County, Texas Today’s plan was to spend the first part of the morning relaxing with coffee while catching up on the previous day’s field notes, then hike up Bush Mountain to Marcus Overlook. Gaining nearly 1000 feet in just under three miles, it would be enough of a challenge for either one of us, especially considering how slow Rich and I tend to be on our hikes due to constantly stopping to look at things.
View from lower part of Bush Mountain Trail.
As we passed through the grasslands beyond the horse corrals, we started seeing one of my favorite tiger beetles—Cicindelidia obsoleta (large grassland tiger beetle). The first two we saw were black, suggesting they were assignable to the nominate subspecies, but then we saw a green individual (that I got barely close enough for a crappy photo) which suggests subspecies C. o. santaclarae—a subspecies I’ve never seen in the field before and this spot surely on the eastern edge of its distribution (perhaps in an intergrade zone with nominate C. obsoletus). Perhaps in the morning before we leave I’ll go back and see if I can get a more acceptable photograph.
Cicindelidia obsoleta santaclarae (Santa Clara grassland tiger beetle) on clay trail through montane grassland.
For a while the trail was not too steep as it followed a rocky wash, and most of the herbaceous plants were just beginning to produce new foliage (late June seems to me like an awful late start to the season!). As we ascended the mountain, the habitat turned from pinyon/juniper/oak woodland to alpine grassland with large ponderosa pines dotting the steep hillsides. The ascent was quite steep in places, causing us to stop frequently; however, our reward for doing so was the chance to take our eyes off our feet and instead admire the expansive vistas sprawling before us!
View from lower part of Bush Mountain Trail.
About halfway up I noticed what must have been a webbed-over (and thus occupied) tarantula burrow—my second tarantula burrow after having never seen one in my emite life.
Apparently occupied tarantula burrow in montane grassland.
Along a ridge near the top we found a very colorfully marked juvenile greater short-horned lizard (Phrynosoma hernandesi—the first horned lizard that I’ve seen in the field that was not a Texas horned lizard (P. cornutum).
Rare shade along the middle part of Bush Mountain Trail.
Greater short-horned lizard (Phrynosoma hernandesi) on limestone trail through montane grassland.
The best find of the day, however, was the least expected—several tiger beetles whose identity I did not recognize and which proved to be Cicindelidia laetipennis! This particular population was, until very recently, considered a subspecies of C. politula (limestone tiger beetle) that was endemic to the Guadeloupe Mountains (C. p. petrophila—rock loving tiger beetle) and characterized by extreme variability in coloration despite its very small geographic range. Indeed, the two individuals I managed to get close enough to photograph (thanks to my new cell phone’s zoom function!) showed part of this variability—one being bright coppery-red and the other almost greenish. Molecular analysis, however, has shown that the population is instead conspecific with C. laetipennis, which was until then considered restricted to Mexico. Whether an endemic subspecies of a more common species or a distinct phenotype of a Mexican species, it was a thrill for me to see in the field for the first time.
View from hairpin turn on middle part of Bush Mountain Trail.
Cicindelidia laetipennis (formerly C. politula petrophila—family Cicindelidae) on limestone trail through montane grassland. This individual is quite red.
Another individual of Cicindelidia laetipennis, this one decidedly greenish.
“Beetle’s-eye-view” of limestone habitat for Cicindelidia laetipennis in montane grassland.
At Marcus Overlook, we enjoyed a bit of a food and rest while viewing the expanse of mountains further west and south in the park, thankful that such immensely wild, unspoiled places still exist. The hike back down was more about the destination than the experience—the careful footing required to navigate the at times steep grades keep our eyes mostly on our feet, and by the time we reached our campsite at mid-afternoon we were ready for some rest, food, and rehydration!
View of Guadalupe Mountains from Marcus Overlook.
After resting up a bit, we decided to head back out of the park (and, thus, into New Mexico) to nearby Queen to replenish our ice and liquids and then visit Sitting Bull Falls Recreation Area. Neither decision worked out as planned. The (only) convenience store in Queen was closed (despite the posted hours of business stating they were open until 5 pm), so the little ice that we had left would have to last until the morning, and when we arrived at the turn off to Sitting Bull Falls, we saw that the area closed at 4 pm—less than an hour away. We drove the road anyway and found a trailhead parking area just before the entrance that looked interesting enough to explore. The area was very lush, obviously having enjoyed recent rains, but there was no insect activity to speak of. Our already tired legs further lowered our motivation, and we decided to call it a day and head back to the park.
Hamm Vista Lincoln National Forest Eddy County, New Mexico On the way back, I had an idea—stop by the traps I’d serviced the previous day on Klondike Gap Rd (not too far off the main highway) and see if they were beginning to pull anything in. I checked only the bottle trap and the SRW/EtOH traps, and both had fresh catch—Acmaeodera in the former and Euphoria in the latter. Of course, I was hoping (but did not expect) to see Purpuricenus opacus, and though I did not see it after 24 short hours I remain optimistic that it will come to the traps in the next few weeks. While we were there, I noticed a particular oak tree (Quercus grisea—gray oak, I believe) alongside the road. Something about it said “Beat me!”, so I went back and got the beating sheet out of the car, beat another oak on the way back to the tree without seeing anything, and in the first whack of the tree I got Chrysobothris axillaris—an oak associate that I’ve only seen in west Texas. Of course, that motivated me to starting beating other oaks, but I never saw another beetle. Certainly not a productive stop, but at least getting C. axillaris made it worth the effort.
Agave havardiana (Harvard’s century plant—family Agavaceae) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Dog Canyon Campground Guadalupe Mountains National Park Culberson County, Texas This being our last evening in the park, we brought out the bison steaks for a celebratory dinner, and they were quite good despite having to be cooked in a skillet over my tiny stove (no charcoal grills allowed!). Perhaps the “dirty skillet” imparted some flavor. Kitty joined the celebration, scoring four sardines for dinner instead of just two! Afterwards once darkness had settled, we walked the roads again hoping to see snakes and other crawlies, but there was far less on the roads this time compared to last night, with two notable exceptions—a Zopherus concolor (family Zopheridae), and a large male Prionus californicus (California prionid—family Cerambycidae), both on the trunks of the massive alligator junipers (Juniperus deppeana) that dot the campground. Perhaps the cooler and more blustery conditions had things hunkering down.
Zopherus concolor (family Zopheridae) at night on trunk of Juniperus deppeana (alligator juniper) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Prionus californicus (California prionus—family Zopheridae) at night on trunk of Juniperus deppeana (alligator juniper) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Before turning in for the night, I started to hike the short (0.6 mi) Meadow Nature Trail. I’d made it about halfway around when I decided that hiking the trail on a moonless night by myself was not such a bright idea and turned around. I really got spooked on the way back out when I saw two glowing eyes not far away but breathed a sigh of relief when their owner turned out to be a mule deer, who was equally spooked by my approach and bolted, crashing away through the darkness.
Day 7
I normally dislike mornings that we have to break camp and move on—I’d rather relax for an hour or so and enjoy a cup (or two) of French press coffee while catching up on the previous day’s field notes. Today was supposed to be such a day, but I negotiated with Rich to delay our departure until mid-morning to give the grassland tiger beetles (Cicindelidia obsoleta santaclarae) that we saw beginning yesterday’s hike a chance to become active again so I could try for better photographs. The coffee tasted good this morning, and three wild turkeys strutting nonchalantly through our campsite made my leisure hour just that much more enjoyable. Once it warmed up a bit, I went to the corrals where we’d seen them before—nothing! We decided to go ahead and break camp, then go back and check again after we were all packed up—nothing! This was puzzling, since we were there at the time we’d seen them the day before. All I can say is figuring out insects is hard—especially in the West, and if I live to be 100 I don’t think I’ll ever fully figure them out. With that, we said our goodbyes to Dog Canyon—I truly look forward to coming back!
Wild turkey (Meleagris gallopavo) strolling through our campsite.
It was a long drive between Eddy Co. and our first collecting spot of the day, and we stupidly made it even longer by going all the way back to Roswell to restock on groceries for the coming week. While we were there, we decided to each lunch at a restaurant instead of out of the car—further adding to our travel time (but the burritos from Burrito Express were so good!). The last leg from Roswell to near Mayhill was—like last time—the worst, with temperatures soaring up to 100°F and the landscape providing so very little of interest.
Carr Canyon Rd Lincoln National Forest Otero County, New Mexico We arrived at about 4:30 pm—still plenty of time to collect and, if we didn’t like what we saw, move on, and we were happy that the higher elevation was providing some temperature relief. We had come to this spot last time based on a prior record of a rather fine buprestid species (Buprestis prospera) from the area, but it was bone dry at the time and we moved on without even getting out of the vehicle. Conditions seemed much better this time, but still I saw no pinyon pine (the larval host) to inspect—and certainly no dead ones to chop into. We were here, however, and decided to give it a shot. I did find a few small dead Juniperus deppeana (alligator juniper), but beating them produced only a single Anomoea sp. (likely an incidental association). The scrub oaks (not sure which Quercus species they represent) as well were leafing out nicely, but sweeping them produced only a smattering of Chrysomelidae (leaf beetles), Elateridae (click beetles), and Curculionidae (weevils)—no Buprestidae (jewel beetles) or Cerambycidae (longhorned beetles). A dry creekbed ran through the area, and I noticed rather lush growth of grassy vegetation in and alongside the creekbed. Recalling that I’d swept such growth along the roadside in nearby Mayhill a few years ago and got a series of Taphrocerus schaefferi, I began sweeping. This was much more productive—each sweeping pass produced one or two Taphrocerus (will need to examine closely to determine if they also represent T. schaefferi, also that is likely), and by the time I finished I had a nice little series of around eight individuals. Checking back with Rich, neither he nor I were seeing much else of interest, so we decided to continue on to the next locality near Cloudcroft.
Pasimachus californicus (California warrior beetle—family Carabidae) in montane coniferous forest.
Switchback Trailhead Lincoln National Forest Otero County, New Mexico The threatening clouds that had just started appearing as we were leaving the previous spot developed into full-blown rain showers as we continued up the mountains to Cloudcroft. Just as quickly as they had come, however, they abated and we arrived to this spot under broken clouds and cool early evening temps. Of all the locations where I had placed traps, my expectations were lowest for this one due to its combination of high elevation (nearly 9000’) and dense, coniferous forests (wine-based baits typically do not attract beetles associated with conifers). I went ahead and placed traps here, however, because 1) I already had several sets at lower elevation woodlands, 2) the presence here of Quercus gambelii (Gambel oak)—a high elevation oak that could be hosting a variety of interesting beetle species, and 3) perhaps the ethanol component of the bait might still attract conifer associates. What I found was completely unexpected—all three traps contained several species of Cerambycidae, none of which I immediately recognized to species! The most abundant species appears to be a large, blonde lepturine, and there was also a smaller Stenocorus sp. as well as a few even smaller species that will require closer examination to identify. I was happy to see all three traps not only still hanging, but also with a little bit of bait still in the bottle and the propylene glycol in the reservoirs not completely dried out. This is in contrast to the traps at all the other lower-elevation localities, which exhibited bone-dry bait bottles and little to no propylene glycol remaining in the reservoir. The thought occurred to me that perhaps the reason these traps were so much more productive was because they remained attractive for the entire one-month period following their placement, while traps at other localities dried up after two or three weeks and failed to attract beetles during the latter part of the period—potentially after beetles had begun to appear in numbers. On the other hand, the very different habitats could also easily explain such a difference. As for the traps, expectedly the SRW/EtOH trap had the largest catch volume, the EtOH-only trap had the smallest (though still good numbers and variety of beetles), and the SRW-only trap volume was in between. Sadly, the white bottle trap was not only pulled out of the ground but completely missing—I can only guess that one of the many hikers that pass through the area saw it and couldn’t resist their inner vandal. The lateness of the hour precluded much further collecting, but I noticed a couple of Anthaxia (Haplanthaxia) caseyi on flowers of Rosa woodsii (Woods’ rose). Based on locality and their dark coloration, they should represent the subspecies A. c. pseudotsugae—unlike the bright green individuals of the nonimate subspecies found further west in California.
Rosa woodsii (Woods’ rose—family Carabidae) in montane coniferous forest.
There were lots of other plants of various types in bloom, suggesting that a return to this spot with sunny conditions might be warranted. It also convinced me that I should replace the bottle trap here (using the one I retrieved from Mescalero Sands), given the uniqueness of this locality—I’ll just need to find a more secluded spot to place it.
Upper Karr Canyon Campground Lincoln National Forest Otero County, New Mexico During my last visit with Mike, we camped at Lower Karr Canyon Recreation Area on the west side of the mountains below Cloudcroft. It was a nice place to camp but with no table or restroom. This time, Rich and I decided to try Upper Karr Canyon, and boy were we impressed—high elevation (9350’!) with a spacious campground and, most importantly, tables! There were other people in the campground, but everyone was spaced so far apart that it still felt private—at least, until the toddler in the next campsite had a meltdown and woke the infant, who himself then had a meltdown! It was dark by then, so I decided to take a walk to look for night-active critters and hoped that the frazzled parents would manage to get things under control by the time I returned. I saw lots of tenebrionids, of course, but also far more Carabidae (ground beetles) than I typically see out west—perhaps because of the high elevation. Nothing, however, warranted placement in my bottle, so I returned to a (thankfully) quiet campground and admired the amazing starscape in the sky above in the time before the waning gibbous moon began rising in the east.
Becoming acquainted with “aliens” that we encountered this morning in Roswell.
Oenothera flava (yellow evening primrose—family Onagraceae) flowering at night in alpine coniferous forest.
Our tent illuminated beneath the night sky.
Day 8
I was tempted to do a bit of collecting before we broke camp—Cicindela purpurea (pasture tiger beetles) were flitting amongst clay exposures in the campground, and Trimerotropis verruculata (crackling forest grasshopper) serenaded us with their snap-crackle-popping flights. We decided instead to break camp anyway and head back to Switchback Trailhead.
Trimerotropis verruculata (crackling forest grasshopper—family Acrididae) in alpine coniferous forest.
Mexican Canyon Trestle—the last of 49 such trestles built in 1899 to transport timber from the Sacramento Mountains.
View from Mexican Canyon Overlook. White Sands National Moniment can be seen in the distance.
Switchback Trailhead Lincoln National Forest Otero County, New Mexico After a quick stop at Mexican Canyon Overlook (I actually made it to the far end of the cantilever lookout deck!), we went back to Switchback Trailhead so we could get a better look than allowed by our quick trap check stop the previous evening. This included examining the variety of flowers and sweeping the large patches of mature Gambel oaks in hopes of finding the recently described Brachys rileyi. I also wanted to reset a new bottle trap to replace the one that was stolen, except this time I hid the trap in an exposed area inside a large patch of Rosa woodsii (Woods’ rose). I barely got the trap set when I noticed more Anthaxia on the flowers and collected a nice series of what I now believe are two species—A. (Haplanthaxia) caseyi pseudotsugae (due to its dark coloration) and A. (Melanthaxia) expansa (due to the two pronotal impressions). I went back to the car to get my long-handled net for sweeping the Gambel oak and found nearby a stand of Ratibida columnifera (Mexican hat) with more Anthaxia plus Acmaeoderavariegata on the flowers. Sweeping the Gamble oak was disappointing—no Buprestidae of any kind, much less B. rileyi, but I did collect a small variety of other beetles including a very tiny adult of what must be Neoclytus irroratus. I was about to go back and see if Rich was having any luck when I spotted a large flowering Sambucus cerulea neomexicana (western elderberry). My long-handled net came in very handy, as I was able to seep the flowers high up out of normal reach. The first tree yielded what I suspect is Agrilaxia arizonae, and after sweeping the four different tree in the area I collected two more adults. I’m not aware of the occurrence of this species east of western New Mexico, so we will have to see how it compares to the very similar species A. texana. The last plant was very close to one of my bait traps (SRW-only bait)—I couldn’t resist the temptation to take a peak and was happy to see a lepturine longhorn already in the trap. It was the smaller, darker species that I thought yesterday was a species of Stenocorus, and a little bit of internet sleuthing revealed it to be the very local and uncommonly collected S. copei—a very nice species that I have never collected before! Now I am even more excited about the trap results from this spot and am anxious to see what they trap in the next couple of months. (I also sleuthed the larger yellow species and believe it is Centrodera spurca [yellow Douglas-fir borer]—not an especially rare species, but one that I have never collected and this population representing one that is interestingly disjunct from the main population in the Pacific Coast states.)
Stenocorus copei (family Cerambycidae) taken in sweet red wine-baited jug trap hanging in Quercus gambelii (Gamble oak) along margin of alpine coniferous forest.
In the meantime, Rich learned from a passing Forest Service worker that a small protected area for the Sacramento Mountains checkerspot butterfly (Euphydryas anicia cloudcrofti), currently proposed for listing on the endangered species list, could be found just up the road. Rich had to promise that we were not interested in collecting the butterflies before the worker agreed to tell him where the caged butterfly food plots were located, so we went up to take a look at them.
Bailey Canyon Rd Lincoln National Forest Otero County, New Mexico While Rich examined the food plots (he did not see either larvae or adults), I examined the flowers alongside the road, collecting more Acmaeodera variegata and Anthaxia spp. of the flowers of Hymenoxys hoopsii (owlsclaws) and Achillea millefolium (common yarrow).
Acmaeodera variegata (family Buprestidae) on flower of Hymenoxys hoopesii (owlsclaws) in alpine coniferous forest.
There were several additional flowering Sambucus cerulea neomexicana (western elderberry), but sweeping the flowers produced no additional Agrilaxia. Nothing else sparked our interest, so we then headed to Trestle Depot Recreation Area in nearby Cloudcroft.
Trestle Recreation Area Lincoln National Forest Otero County, New Mexico This little picnic spot caught my eye when I was here last month, looking like it might be good for a quick stop and look around. Musk thistle (Carduus nutans) in flower along the roadside may be an exotic invasive plant, but the flowers attracting a variety of butterflies were of immediate interest to Rich. I looked as well to see if there were any beetles on the flowers, but there were not and so went back to the picnic area. Immediately I spotted a freshly dead Douglas-fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii) and walked toward it. As I approached, I saw two Buprestis lyrata adults on the trunk—one of which flew off as I spotted them and the other I caught. I checked the trunk carefully to see if there were others, and failing to find any I checked out a nearby cut Ponderosa pine (Pinus ponderosa) stump. I suspected, however, that the first one would eventually come back to the tree, and when I returned it was there. It was too high to reach, however, so I found a long dead stick, placed the loop of my net right beneath it, and used the tip of the stick to cause it to drop into the net. I would catch two more adults this way on successive returns to the tree, and while these would be my only specimens from the visit I was quite happy to have found them.
Buprestis lyrata (pink-faced jewel beetle—false Buprestidae) collected on trunk of freshly dead Pseudotsuga menziesii (Douglas fir) in alpine coniferous forest.
“Point of Sands” Otero County, New Mexico By the time we finished up at Trestle Depot, it was mid-afternoon and I wanted to show Rich “Point of Sands” where White Sands National Monument spills across the park border and down onto Hwy 70. I’ve collected some very nice Buprestidae associated with Ephedra torreyana (Torrey’s joint-fir) on previous visits (Acmaeodera recticollis and Sphaerobothris ulkei), but last month when I visited here with Mike it was bone dry with very little in flight. This time, it was not only bone dry, but also 108°F—seriously! We were here, and I didn’t want to assume that we would find nothing, but for the first 20 minutes it felt like we were walking in an oven. Somehow, I adapted and the heat stopped bothering me, and when I found a male cicada (Diceroprocta eugraphica) singing in an Atriplex canescens (four-wing saltbush) I was motivated to continue looking to see if something else might be out. This was the case, although it was limited to cicadas at the far south end of the stop—a female Hadoa townsendii on the old fruiting stalk of Yucca elata (soaptree yucca), and a female D. eugraphica on A. canescens, both of which cooperated for photos nicely.
Hadoa townsendii (family Cicadidae) on old fruit stem of Yucca elata (soaptree yucca) at edge of white sand dune.
Diceroprocta eugraphica (family Cicadidae) on Atriplex canescens (fourwing saltbush) at edge of white sand dune.
Rich had long ago returned to the car to cool off in the air conditioning but then became worried when I went out of view and didn’t return shortly—I’d just started heading back to the car as I saw him coming to look for me! We both decided that we’d had enough of 108°F temperatures and continued on to our next destination, the fantastically beautiful Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument!
Aguirre Springs Campground Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument Doña Ana County, New Mexico The ascent up into the Organ Mountains is among the most spectacular of any—tall dried stalks of sotol give the slopes a “brushy” appearance in front of sharp, jagged peaks.
Sotol-covered hillsides at lower elevations.
The campground itself is also gorgeous; however, beauty is one thing—the presence of insect activity is another, and the parched-looking, still-quite-warm landscape (though nothing like the oven that we encountered at the previous stop) had us wondering if it would even be worth staying one night, much less the two that we had planned. I suggested spending a little bit of time beating the local vegetation—if I found beetles we would stay, but if not (as I fully expected), we would go back to Upper Karr Canyon to enjoy another night at its high, deliciously cool elevation and then head north in the morning to search for “greener pastures.”
View from our campsite in Aguirre Springs Campground.
I got out the beating sheet and whacked the branch of a nearby hackberry, and to my surprise onto the sheet fell an Agrilus sp. (in fact, I was so surprised that I’d neglected to ready my aspirator and the damn thing got away!). More whacks of the hackberry produced nothing, so I regarded it as a fluke and turned my attention to the gray oaks (Quercus grisea). With one whack, onto the sheet dropped two Sternidius decorus—a species I know only from Arizona, and with continued beating I collected an additional individual or two at regular intervals.
Okay, so it looked like things might be happening here—despite the very dry-looking conditions, and we went about setting up camp. Dusk settled in as we finished our dinner, and I set up not only the ultraviolet lights but also the mercury vapor lamp. To make things interesting, I also set out a prionic acid lure near the lights in case there were any Prionus beetles in the area. It didn’t take long for the first male to show up—a remarkably small P. heroicus, and over the next hour several additional, more normal-sized males showed up.
Prionus heroicus (family Cerambycidae) male attracted to prionic acid lure near ultraviolet/mercury vapor lights at dusk in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
The lights alone also began attracting Cerambycidae as soon as full darkness arrived—many individuals of Methia mormona showed up, but so did other species such as Hypexilis sp. and what I take to be a species of Elaphidiini.
Methia mormona (family Cerambycidae) attracted to ultraviolet/mercury vapor lights at dusk in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Chrysina gloriosa (glorious jewel scarab—family Scarabaeidae) attracted to ultraviolet/mercury vapor lights at dusk in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
A female Aphonopelma hentzi (Texas brown tarantula—family Theraphosidae) also paid a visit to the lights looking for a free meal (I never saw a female tarantula ever and then see two in five days!).
Aphonopelma hentzi (Texas brown tarantula—family Theraphosidae) female at night in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Additional cerambycid individuals arrived regularly, and we would have left the lights up longer had occasional gusts and distant lightning not become blustering winds and certain rain. We got the lights taken down and put away with little time to spare, then spent the rest of the night not sleeping while high winds buffeted and heavy rain pelted the tent. (Its a good thing I got a new tent last year—my old one would not have survived!)
Day 9
La Cueva Recreation Area Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument Doña Ana County, New Mexico Given the heat we experienced yesterday, we decided to do any lower elevation collecting first thing in the morning and then come back up into the mountains for the afternoon when (hopefully) the higher elevations would provide some relief. Some good species of Buprestidae have been taken by others in the vicinity of La Cueva picnic area on the other side of the mountain range, so we headed down there to take a look.
Backlit, backside peaks!
It was already hot by mid-morning as we headed out on the Arroyo Trail. Conditions were dry, but the mesquites (Prosopis glandulosa) had fresh foliage and the whitethorn acacias (Vachellia constricta) even had flowers. Hackberries (Celtis reticulata) were thick along the trail, and large oaks (Q. grisea and Q. turbinella) dotted the arroyo margins. Beating, however, produced nothing—no Buprestidae, no Cerambycidae, not even Chrysomelidae. I didn’t feel like continuing to “beat” a dead horse, especially when temperatures were skyrocketing and the mountains were beckoning, so we cut bait and headed back up the slopes.
La Cueva Recreation Area.
Pine Tree Loop Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument Doña Ana County, New Mexico The Pine Tree Loop is purported to be a 4-mile loop with 1000 ft of ascent (all within the first two miles!). My main objective was the small leafmining buprestid Brachys rileyi, which is known only from higher elevations in New Mexico and west Texas on Gambel oak (Quercus gambelii), and it was found a few years ago along this very trail. This was not my first attempt to find the species here—I stopped by two years ago guided by that record, which had been placed on the popular citizen scientist platform iNaturalist. Unfortunately, the record was inaccurately placed at a lower elevation (below the Gambel oak zone). I (incorrectly) assumed that the host must have been misidentified and that the species had been collected instead on gray oak (it is not unusual for buprestids thought to be associated with one host to eventually be found on another) and was rather frustrated to later learn that the inaccurate placement was intentional—the beetle had been photographed after it was collected, and because the true location had (amazingly!) not been recorded, the record was instead placed at a random point somewhere near the start of the hike. I must have beaten every oak within 100 feet of that (erroneous) location—obviously without success! I have since found other examples of such “malplacements” on iNaturalist, a practice which I can only describe as sloppy at best, and I implore all iNaturalist users (especially practicing entomologists) to record the most accurate placements for observations of insects photographed later as collected specimens rather than as live individuals out in the field. Obviously, this will involve more detailed note-taking; however, accuracy is, after all, a basic tenet of science! [Now climbing down from my soapbox.]
Greeting at the beginning of the Pine Tree Loop Trail.
Okay, so now knowing that the record actually came from the Gambel oak zone on the upper part of the trail, we readied ourselves to hike the trail in its entirety. The scenery grew increasingly spectacular as we ascended, during which time I beat selected trees—mostly Quercus grisea (gray oak), from which I got a lone Acmaeodera quadrivittatoides on the lower slopes and a couple of Polycesta arizonica—represented in my collection until now by just a couple of specimens collected many years ago in west Texas—from a bit further up.
Lower Pine Tree Loop Trail.
Polycesta arizonica (family Buprestidae) beaten from Quercus grisea (gray oak) in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Massive alligator junipers (Juniperus deppeana), both alive and as cadavers, graced the landscape, providing both visual interest and opportunities for shade during our frequent breaks from the hot sun and the relentless ascent.
Juniperus deppeana (alligator juniper) cadaver along the Pine Tree Loop Trail.
Ornate tree lizard (Urosaurus ornatus) on granite exposure in montane juniper/oak:pinyon woodland.
The “Old Man.” Also, an enormous Juniperus deppeana (alligator juniper) along Pine Tree Loop Trail! 😊
At long last, we reached the Gambel oak zone and I began beating stands near the trail in earnest. Almost immediately I add another Sternidius decorus to the series I’d gotten the previous evening, giving me hope that further beating would bring success. After only a few more minutes, a Brachys landed upside-down on my sheet! I quickly picked it up and popped it into the vial, then turned the vial until I could see the upper side. I was looking for the blue coloration with red apices to confirm its identity as B. rileyi, but instead its uniform coppery color indicated it was B. querci. Until a couple of years ago when I collected a good series of this species in the Davis Mountains of west Texas, I would have been very excited by this capture. Instead, my momentary elation turned to disappointment. Still having collected one species of Brachys gave me hope that I would still find the other, but that would not be the case—continued beating of Gambel oak was fruitless, and even my ability to do that was cut short when a popup thunderstorm moved in and drenched everything (including us!). I will admit that we welcomed the break in temperatures, as the heat and effort from the ascent had by then begun to take its toll on us, but eventually the rain moved out (creating some spectacular views as it moved across the slopes below us), and I resumed my beating.
Rain showers the northern slopes of the Organ Mountains.
For a long time nothing hit my beating sheet (except a shower of water drops, which I had to continually shake off the sheet). Just before we passed back out of the Gambel oak zone after beginning our descent, I got a sort of consolation prize—a large(-ish) sp., and as I was putting the beetle in the vial a Prionus heroicus male flew by and circled slowly back towards me to within net’s reach. Not long after, as I was beating the last of the Gambel oaks that we would see, Rich called out to me from further down on the trail saying he saw another Prionus crawling on the ground and that it had crawled under a dead log. We lifted the log (gray oak), and there she sat—the most enormous gravid female P. heroicus I’d ever seen! I wanted a photo, but she started running so I blocked her with my finger to get her to stay still. This did not work despite repeated attempts, and at one point when I became rather careless with my finger placement she gave me the most painful beetle bite I’ve ever had—bringing blood right on the most sensitive part of my fingertip! I guess giving me a good nip brought her some satisfaction, because after that she stayed put long enough for me to snap the photos I wanted. By this point, we were really feeling the combination of miles, heat, thirst, and hunger and focused on completing the rest of the descent back to the parking area, where we enjoyed a (very) late lunch and cold liquids under a table with shade!
Prionus heroicus (family Cerambycidae) gravid female under fallen dead trunk of Quercus grisea (gray oak) in montane juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Aguirre Springs Campground Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument Doña Ana County, New Mexico When we got back to the campground, I was so drained that all I wanted to do was rest (and continue rehydrating!). But, I still had the set of jug traps (that I’d taken down from Mescalero Sands) and had decided that the juniper/oak woodland around the campground with large gray oaks could be an interesting place to set them. We’d seen very few people in the area since our arrival (apparently camping in the heat of the summer is not popular here!), but I still wanted to eliminate any chance of the traps being molested so hoofed it past the barbed-wire fence on the west side and bushwhacked across the slope to a line of large gray oaks on the other side of the ravine. The SRW-only trap was placed furthest up the slope, the SRW/EtOH trap in the ravine, and the EtOH-only trap above the ravine nearest the road. On the way back to the campsite, another P. heroicus male flew within net’s reach, which I nabbed and gave to Rich. I also watched a large, orange/black female velvet ant (family Mutillidae) crawling on the ground and soon noticed a male that must have been the same species (smaller but identical coloration) fly in, circle around, and land on the ground not far from the female. I hoped he would encounter her, but when he was within a couple of feet he suddenly took flight and disappeared—perhaps she didn’t smell right or, in fact, was not a conspecific!
Post-rain view from our campsite at Aguirre Springs Campground.
Spotty showers and gusty breezes prevented another night of lighting, but honestly we were both so exhausted from the day that we welcomed the opportunity to relax after dinner and catch up on our field notes.
Day 10
We enjoyed a much more restful night than previously thanks to cooler temperatures and awoke to spectacular views over the valley below. It was hard to think about turning around and heading back to the north and east, but both of us had committed to returning to St. Louis by late Friday—if we were going to keep that commitment we would have to make significant progress today. Our plan was to go back to Black Mesa in the extreme northwestern corner of Oklahoma (where we had been rained out at the beginning of the trip). At about a 7½-hour drive, we would have plenty of time to collect in the area before facing Friday’s 12-hour slog back to St. Louis. I did get a “goodbye gift” before we left—another Polycesta arizonica that was sitting on the tent as we broke camp!
Morning view from our campsite at Aguirre Springs Campground.
Pajarito Rest Stop Roosevelt County, New Mexico At the halfway point of the drive—approaching Tucumcari in east-central New Mexico, we decided to stop at an interstate rest stop for lunch and were pleased to find sheltered picnic tables to enjoy our meal. Afterwards, while exploring the grounds a bit (never pass up an opportunity to look for bugs!), I spotted a lidless white cooler sitting next to the fence along the back edge of the area. I don’t know what I expected to see inside of it, but when I looked I saw standing water in the bottom… and beetles! It was nothing more than a giant bowl trap! We brought the cooler back to the car, poured the contents through a sieve and rinsed before dumping out, and picked out a cerambycid (Strangalia sexnotata), two scarabs (Euphoria kernii), and a few other miscellaneous beetles (but, unfortunately, no Acmaeodera).
“Cooler trap” at Pajarito Rest Area.
Kenton Cimarron County, New Mexico As we continued northward through northeastern New Mexico, we noticed what looked like rainclouds in the distance, and checking the radar forecast showed spot thundershowers moving through the area around Black Mesa. All we could say was “Here we go again!” and spent the remaining few hours of the drive watching the clouds and constantly checking the radar updates trying to predict if rain would actually occur at our planned collecting spot—a sandstone outcropping with juniper/oak/pinyon woodland just east of the tiny town of Kenton. Rain seemed certain as we passed through Clayton—about 30 minutes south and west of Kenton—when we got drenched while making a quick pit stop, but as we neared our destination the clouds started breaking up a bit, even allowing occasional peaks of sunlight. We arrived at the spot at either 5 pm or 6 pm, depending on whether we followed Central or Mountain Time (the time zone boundary passes right through the area), and though it had rained, it was neither cool nor overly wet. I had discovered Prionus heroicus in this area a number of years ago (with the help of prionic acid lures), and given our repeated sightings of this species the previous two days, I set out lures to see if they were active in this area. Almost immediately the males started flying in, easily recognized from afar by their enormous size, peculiar waving of their hind legs while flying, and diesel engine-like sound of their flight!
Prionus heroicus (family Cerambycidae) males attracted to prionic acid during late afternoon in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.
I collected a few to document the occurrence, but what I was most interested in doing here was beating the oaks. There are two species here, Quercus × undulata (wavylweaf oak) being the more abundant and Q. mohriana (Mohr oak) represented by sporadic individuals. I had beaten a nice series of Brachys barberi (and one B. aeruginosus) from the former last month and collected a few cerambycid-pruned branches from the latter, but beating on this day produced little. I did, however, note several additional cerambycid-pruned branches on the very same Q. mohriana from which I had collected them last month, which I bundled for rearing, and beating the living branches produced a single Chrysobothris purpureovittata purpureovittata.
Chrysobothris purpureovittata purpureovittata (family Buprestidae) beaten from Quercus mohriana (Mohr oak) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment. (Perhaps an incidental association.)
Also from Q. mohriana, I beat a large, impress caterpillar that I soon decided must be one of the Hemileuca spp. (sheep and buck moths—family Saturniidae). The only species known from the area is H. oliviae (range sheep moth), but it clearly did not look match images of that species, so Rich decided to see if he could rear the caterpillar to adulthood and collected foliage from the tree to provide additional food until it pupated. [Edit: The host, location, and gestalt (especially the reddish dorsal coloration between the segments) suggest it is Hemileuca grotei diana (Grote’s buck moth). Apparently this species has not yet recorded from Oklahoma, but the location in far northwest corner is very close to several Colorado records, and the species also occurs in Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona. Rich also wrote the following update on his attempts to rear the caterpillar to adulthood:
The caterpillar made it home safely. I put the caterpillar in a large jar with cactus soil, and some of the oak leaves I collected off the bush where it was collected. For the next three days, it fed on the leaves at night and left lots of frass behind. During the day, it remained motionless on the dirt. Since last night, the caterpillar has not moved which could mean that it has died or is parasitized. It may also be taking its time to form a pupa. This is what I am hoping for.]
Hemileucagroteidiana (Grote’s buck moth—family Saturniidae) caterpillar beaten from Quercus mohriana (Mohr oak) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.
I continued beating the oaks but found only a few weevils on Q. × undulata before turning back to look around the flats around the parking area. Along the way, I noted a lone Celtis reticulata (net-veined hackberry) along the roadside, from which I beat a single Agrilus. Its chunky size and coppery color had me fooled until I realized it was a stray A. sapindi—normally associated with Sapindus saponaria ssp. drummondii (western soapberry). I’m not aware of the occurrence of soapberry at this particular spot, but it is common at nearby Black Mesa State Park and likely also occurs in other closer areas.
Agrilus sapindi (family Buprestidae) beaten from Celtis reticulata (net-veined hackberry) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment. (Must be an incidental association.)
Checking the flats around the parking area, I found not only Moneilema armatum on Cylindropuntia imbricata (cholla), but also Cacama valvata (common cactus dodger).
Cacama valvata (common cactus dodger—family Cicadidae) on Cylindropuntia imbricata (cholla) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.
After taking photos of the latter, I noticed a large beetle crawling on the ground and realized it was a female P. heroicus—only the second female of this species I’ve seen (the first being only one day earlier at Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument). This brings me to an idea I have about attraction to pheromones in Prionus beetles—released by females (none of which fly to my knowledge) to attract males (which are powerful fliers). The use of prionic acid pheromone lures has greatly facilitated the collection of male Prionus beetles (all species of Prionus appear to be attracted to prionic acid); however, I have also collected females of several species (P. arenarius, P. fissicornis, P. integer, and—now—P. heroicus) while using prionic acid lures to collect male Prionus. In each case, I found the females walking on the ground in the general direction of the lures, suggesting to me that they may be “cheaters”—i.e., rather than producing and releasing their own pheromone, they detect pheromone being released by another female and walk towards the source in hopes of “stealing” a male. If this is true, the energetic cost of producing/releasing pheromone must be sufficiently high to allow cheaters to persist in the population. In today’s case as well, the female was walking in the general direction of the lure from a distance of about 60 meters. It would be interesting to test this hypothesis experimentally (but it will be up to someone else to do this). On the way back to the car, I collected one more M. armatum—this one on Opuntia phaeacantha (brown-spined pricklypear cactus).
Moneilema armatum (family Cerambycidae) on Opuntia phaeacantha (brown-spined pricklypear cactus) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.
Rich came back to the car about the same time, so I checked in with him to see how he had done. He gave me an Acmaeodera (prob. A. mixta/immaculata) that he’d collected on the flower of Pediomelum tenuiflorum (slimflower scurfpea) and wanted to walk back down the gravel road to check for other flowers. I accompanied him, beating oaks along the way without success (but seeing a very impressive Climaciella brunnea—brown wasp mantidfly) until, finally, a B. barberi from Q. mohriana near the bottom of the hill landed on my sheet.
Climaciella brunnea (brown wasp mantidfly—family Mantispidae) beaten from Quercus×undulata (wavyleaf oak) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.
By then it was getting close to dusk, but I hadn’t yet checked the dead Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) from which I’d beaten two new state records (Oeme rigida deserta and Haplidus testaceus) on my visit here last month. I was keen to see what else might be on the tree a month later and, amazingly, got two more new state records this time as well: Buprestis laeviventris beaten from a branch, and a dead Monochamus clamator clamator (spotted pine sawyer) female stuck on the trunk.
Buprestislaeviventris (family Buprestidae) beaten from dead Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment. This represents yet another new state record for the area.
Monochamus clamator clamator (family Cerambycidae) on trunk of dead Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment. Two new state records on one tree (again!)?
These would be the last insects that I would collect on the trip, and what a final duo they were! On the way back to the car, I picked up a couple of cerambycid-pruned branches of Q. × undulata that I had set aside earlier for rearing. It will be interesting to see if it is the same species that is pruning the two oak species (Q. × undulata and Q. mohriana). With dusk approaching and us still needing to get to the state park and setup camp, we decided that three hours of collecting at the final spot was a good way to close out 10 straight days of collecting!
Black Mesa State Park Cimarron County, New Mexico Our “favorite” campsite in the park was unavailable—in fact, the entire West Canyon campground was closed due to installation of a new dump station for the nearby RV campground. As an alternative, we secured a spot at the nearby Lake Etling Campground. I’ve never stayed there because there are no toilets, but the sites are much larger and come with shelters over the picnic tables—something that would have come in handy during my several previous visits with rain. Site #24, in particular—located at the far end of the campground, nestled up against a low cliff, and well out of sight from the rest of the campground, may well now be my new favorite campsite at the park.
Charcoal “fireworks”!
After enjoying a celebratory rib-eye steak dinner, I walked the roads hoping to see night-active beetles. Unfortunately, the same rains that killed the possibility of setting up the lights also apparently kept the beetles holed up, and I saw nothing. It occurred to me then that this was my tenth visit to the park in the past three years, and it has rained on six of those visits! So much for western Oklahoma being a “dry” place!
A final campfire!
Day 11
The drive from Black Mesa to St. Louis was predictably boring and unfulfilling. Normally I would eschew interstates and divided highways in favor of backroads, but at 12 hours even on the quickest route I had to bite the bullet. At least we did not have to get out of the car while the hottest temperatures of the trip (111°F!) settled over us, and the memories of the trip will feed my souls for a long time to come.
The highest temperature of the trip—111°F! Thankfully, this occurred during the drive home!
Two days ago, the WGNSS Botany Group met in the Visitor Center parking lot on a not-as-cold and not-as-cloudy day compared to previous days with the plan to walk the Natural Wonders Trail—a relatively easy 1.3-mile loop that features mesic forest on north-facing slopes, dry forest and glades on the south-facing slopes, and a spring-fed creek that meanders through the riparian corridor below. The upland portions of the trail pass through Meramec Mosaic Natural Area, boasting an amazing diversity of natural communities and associated flora all in relatively close proximity.
North-facing dolomite bluff in dry-mesic deciduous upland forest supporting at least six species of ferns.
We walked clockwise around the loop, which took us up and out of the riparian forest onto the north-facing slopes. Lindera benzoin (spicebush) was abundant in the understory at the lower elevations, with male and female plants both being immediately recognizable—the former sporting noticeably swollen buds that will produce the male flowers in spring, and the latter still bearing many of their now-faded berries, their earlier bright red color lost to a dull purple-black. Two members of the Betulaceae were also seen commonly in the understory—Ostrya virginiana (hop hornbeam), with its hop-like fruit clusters and almost always adorned with rich-brown marcescent leaves, and Corylus americana (hazelnut) sporting distinctive hanging male catkins.
We had scarcely reached the upper slopes when we began noticing a diversity of green foliage—not from the numerous trees and shrubs, but rather from a variety of ferns, hangers-on from earlier times that continue to find niches within the woody-dominate community that now dominate the landscape. The first example seen was a single Sceptridium dissectum (cutleaf grape-fern), its leaf now in reddish-bronze winter dress. Shortly afterwards we began to see prominent outcrops of dolomite as we neared the north-facing bluffs, their surfaces thickly covered with mosses and providing a perfect situation for Asplenium rhizophyllum (American walking fern). The long, tapering leaves of this species root at their tips and give rise to new plantlets—an asexual method of reproduction that allows a single plant to quickly colonize an entire rock surface.
Sceptridium dissectum (cutleaf grape-fern) in dry-mesic deciduous upland forest.
Asplenium rhizophyllum (American walking fern) on north-facing dolomite bluff in dry-mesic deciduous upland forest.
The bluff faces themselves provided the greatest diversity of ferns. An unusual species observed in abundance was Cystopteris bulbifera (bulblet fern, bulblet bladderfern, or bulblet fragile fern). Unlike many ferns, the fronds of this species turn completely brown during the winter (although a few small green plantlets of what may be this species were observed growing among them). It’s most notable feature, however, is the small “bulblets” that form on the underside of its leaves, providing the plant a most unusual method of asexual reproduction.
Winter foliage of Cystopteris bulbifera (bulblet fern, bulblet bladderfern, or bulblet fragile fern) on north-facing dolomite bluff in dry-mesic deciduous upland forest.
Possible plantlet of Cystopteris bulbifera (bulblet fern, bulblet bladderfern, or bulblet fragile fern) on north-facing dolomite bluff in dry-mesic deciduous upland forest.
Vegetative bulblet on winter foliage of Cystopteris bulbifera (bulblet fern, bulblet bladderfern, or bulblet fragile fern) on north-facing dolomite bluff in dry-mesic deciduous upland forest.
Two Pellaea spp. (cliffbrake) we’re found as well growing from crevices on the bluff face: P. atropurpurea (purple-stem cliffbrake or purple cliffbrake) and the more uncommonly encountered P. glabella (smooth cliffbrake). In some cases the plants were growing very near each other, allowing the group an opportunity to compare and contrast. Pellaea atropurpurea is distinctive in both habit and appearance, with fertile leaflets narrowly elongate—sporangia arranged along the curled under margin and the sterile leaflets broader and “T-shaped” at the base. In addition to its dimorphic leaves, the distinctly pubescent, purplish-brown rachis separates it from P. glabella. The latter species can be found scattered throughout the Ozarks and a few northern counties and is less likely to be seen growing in soil as opposed to exposed rock.
Pellaea atropurpurea (purple-stem cliffbrake or purple cliffbrake) on north-facing dolomite bluff in dry-mesic deciduous upland forest.
Underside of fertile frond of Pellaea atropurpurea (purple-stem cliffbrake or purple cliffbrake) on north-facing dolomite bluff in dry-mesic deciduous upland forest.
Pellaea glabella (smooth cliffbrake) on north-facing dolomite bluff in dry-mesic deciduous upland forest.
Two more species of Asplenium were found as we continued to examine the moss-covered rock exposures, one being the commonly encountered A. platyneuron (ebony spleenwort or brownstem spleenwort)—distinctive by its purple-brown rachis and “offset” pinnae with asymmetrical basal lobes, and an as-yet-undetermined species provisionally assigned to this genus. We would see additional examples of A. platyneuron away from the rock faces growing in the soil—their fertile fronds tending to grow more erect than the sterile fronds. This same habit was seen in the eighth and final fern of the day, the very common Polystichum acrostichoides (Christmas fern) which we encountered regularly in more mesic areas of the forest floor.
Asplenium platyneuron (ebony spleenwort or brownstem spleenwort) on north-facing dolomite bluff in dry-mesic deciduous upland forest.
Fertile frond of Asplenium platyneuron (ebony spleenwort or brownstem spleenwort) on north-facing dolomite bluff in dry-mesic deciduous upland forest.
Fertile frond underside of Asplenium platyneuron (ebony spleenwort or brownstem spleenwort) on north-facing dolomite bluff in dry-mesic deciduous upland forest.
Asplenium sp. (spleenwort) on north-facing dolomite bluff in dry-mesic deciduous upland forest.
Sterile fronds of Polystichum acrostichoides (Christmas fern) on north-facing dolomite bluff in dry-mesic deciduous upland forest.
Despite the botanical focus of the walk, we are all naturalists at heart and quick to notice anything that piques our natural history curiosity, regardless of what kingdom of life it pertains to, and when John called out, “Okay Ted, here’s a quiz for you,” I suspected my entomological skills would be put to the test. What he’d found were three strange-looking structures hanging from a small Ostrya sapling that would have, to anybody less-observant, been passed off as some plant fruiting structure. Of course, we knew that Ostrya fruits bore no resemblance to these structures, and when we noticed they were connected to each other and had apparently been “tied” to the twig by some sort of insect, we then guessed they may have been the fruiting structures of an as yet unidentified herbaceous plant or vine. That idea was quickly dispelled, however, when cutting into one of the structures revealed it was filled with bright yellow spheres that I can only surmise to be lepidopteran eggs, with the structures themselves and their attachments to the twig consisting of the silk that many caterpillars use to construct cocoons in which to pupate. Could these be the eggs of an usual type of bagworm moth, the females of which are typically wingless and larvicida and remain in their cocoon after emergence, where they mate, lay eggs, and die? The structures and their egg-like contents, at this point, remain a mystery, but I did collect them and am attempting to hatch the “eggs” (if that is what they are) in an effort to gain further clues about their identity.
Unknown structures tied to a sapling Ostrya virginiana (hop hornbeam) in dry-mesic deciduous upland forest.
Cutting into the structure revealed what must be eggs, possibly lepidopteran.
The structures were tied together along but independent the tree branch.
Turning back to the east the forest changed dramatically. The tall canopy of mesic-loving hardwoods such as Quercus alba (white oak) and Acer saccharum (sugar maple) gave way to a shorter, more open canopy of trees preferring dry to xeric conditions such as Q. muhlenbergii (chinquapin oak), Rhamnus caroliniana (Carolina buckthorn), and Sideroxylon lanuginosum (wooly buckthorn or gum bumelia). Entomologist that I am, I couldn’t resist the chance to check the ground around the bases of the trunks of each of the latter, hoping to see evidence of larval activity by the spectacular and highly host-specific Plinthocoelium suaveolens (bumelia borer), but no such evidence was seen. At one point, the dry oak woodland yielded to a bona fide dolomite glade (more properly called “xeric dolomite prairie”), with evidence of mechanical removal of woody plants and prescribed burns serving as testament to dedicated management practices intended to restore and preserve the original character of the glade by park management.
The final stretch led back down into the valley, where a disturbing amount of Lonicera japonica (Japanese honeysuckle) was observed on the forest floor and growing up the smaller trees. A grove of Pinus echinata (shortleaf pine), apparently planted some time ago, looked oddly out of place given the dolomitic substrate in the area but did provide an opportunity for dramatic up views. After regrouping in the parking lot (and remarking on what a “fern-tastic” walk it had been), a number of participants caravanned to Clark Street Cade and Bakery in nearby Sullivan for a welcome resumption of the traditional post-walk lunch.
Grove of planted Pinus echinata (shortleaf pine) in dry-mesic deciduous upland forest.
Welcome to the 11th “Collecting Trip iReport”; this one covering a very short (4 days) trip to northwestern Oklahoma on May 3–7, 2022. My collecting partner for this trip was long-time friend and hymenopterist Mike Arduser. Mike is one of the best natural historians that I know and, like me, has a special love for the often overlooked beauty of western Oklahoma and its fascinating insect fauna. It had been 13 years, however—too long, in my opinion, since our last joint field trip when we sampled the bee (Mike) and beetle (me) fauna at The Nature Conservancy’s Four Canyon Preserve in Ellis Co. Thus, I was happy for the chance to once again spend some time in the field with such a knowledgeable naturalist in an area we that both know and love.
Day 1 – Gloss Mountain State Park (Major Co.) It took most of the day to get here—Tulsa threw us a couple of obstacles in the form of a construction-mediated wrong turn and a motorcycle engulfed in flames. I’ve been to Gloss Mountain a number of times, but never this early in the season. Skies were sunny (unlike St. Louis when we left this morning), but temps didn’t get much above 60°F and even dropped down into the upper 50s before we finished up at sunset.
Gloss Mountain State Park – early evening view from atop the mesa.
Surprisingly, despite the earliness of the season and cool temps, beating was quite productive. Working the low areas around the parking lot, I beat a fair number and diversity of beetles and hemipterans—mostly chrysomelids—but only a single Agrilus sp. off of Prosopis glandulosa.
This must be Oenothera macrocarpa ssp. oklahomensis (bigfruit evening primrose, Ozark sundrop, Missouri evening primrose).
I knew there were other trees, principally Celtis reticulata (net-veined hackberry) and Sapindus drummondii (soapberry), on top of the mesa and wanted to see if anything was on them. Bingo! Even before reaching the top, I beat a few Agrilus (several spp.) from the Celtis, and up on top I beat quite a few more off the same. There were also additional mesquite trees up top, off which I again beat a single Agrilus sp. along with a few other things, notably a series of ceresine treehoppers. The Sapindus was just starting to leaf out, and I found nothing by beating them other than a single ceresine. A notable find was the pile of larval frass of Plinthocoelium suaveolens (bumelia borer) at the base of a living Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia) tree—a sure sign of active infestation by a beetle I have yet to formally record from this place.
Frass at the base of a small Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia)—evidence of an active larval infestation by Plinthocoelium suaveolens (bumelia borer).
On the way back down from the top, we hit the sunset perfectly as it “touched” a peak in the foreground! Despite my success here this evening, Mike saw no bees of interest on the few flowers that were found due to the cold temps and chilling winds, so tomorrow we will continue west hoping for warmer conditions on the western edge of Oklahoma.
Dramatic sunset “landing” on a small foreground peak.
The opportunity lasted for only a minute!
Back in town, we searched for an open sit-down restaurant—fruitlessly because of the late hour—and ended up with a mediocre breakfast burrito from a fast food shop I’ve never been to before. The local Buick dealership, however, with its 1950s neon lights shining brightly in the night sky, was a taste of Americana that makes these trips so enjoyable. Life on the road!
Jensen’s Buick, Fairview, Oklahoma.
Day 2 – Black Mesa State Park (Cimmaron Co.) Welp! We awoke this morning to cold temps (low 60s), thick fog, and low hanging clouds, and the forecast for the area showed essentially no improvement through at least the day. Our plan had been to hit a spot about an hour southwest before heading back north to Beaver Dunes State Park, but the forecast for both those areas also was cold and wet. It was not until we looked at the forecast for Black Mesa—our last planned stop of the trip and a 4½-hour-drive to the west—that the forecast seemed to be in our favor, so we decided to blast on out there. We figured we would get there at about 2:00 pm and could spend the rest of the day there collecting, camp there tonight, and start heading back east tomorrow (assuming the forecast improved for the areas we missed).
Pronghorn antelope (Antilocapra americana).
Wrong! When we got there, it was not only cloudy and cold, but dry as a bone! Even if it had been sunny with warmer temps, there still would not have been any insect activity to speak of. The leaves of oaks and hackberries in the area were just barely starting to break bud, and the only flowers we saw at the park were a large willow in full bloom—but not a single insect visiting them. Knowing that there was no other place where conditions were better that we could drive to within the next couple of hours and collect for at least a short time, we instead decided to make it a hiking day and hike the High Point Trail at nearby Black Mesa Nature Preserve.
Black Mesa Nature Preserve (Cimmaron Co.) When we arrived and looked at the signage, we learned that the hike to the oracle at the official high point would be a more than 8-mile hike! Just reaching the top of the mesa itself would be a more than 3-mile-hike, with the high point another mile on top. Not knowing if we had the appetite for such a distance (or time to do it before sunset) and with the wind cold and biting, we started out anyway and gave ourselves permission to turn around at any point if we felt like it.
View along High Point Trail.
View along High Point Trail.
Berlandiera lyrata (lyreleaf greeneyes).
Nevertheless, we persevered. We checked the cholla (Cylindropuntia imbricata) along the way hoping to see Coenopoeus palmeri (one of the cactus longhorns, which I’m not sure has been recorded from Oklahoma) or at least one of the more widespread Moneilema species, but none were seen (nor really expected). The trail up the side of the mesa was steep and spectacular, and the trail atop the mesa was surreal—especially given the cold winds and low-hanging clouds. Eventually, we made it to the official high point and enjoyed the fun facts carved into each side of the granite obolisk marking the spot.
View along High Point Trail about halfway up the climb.
Juniperus monosperma (one-seed juniper).
Oklahoma High Point obolisk.
Oklahoma High Point marker.
Mike (right) and me at Oklahoma High Point.
Coming back down was not much easier than going up, the steepness of the trail jamming my toes into the toe box of my new hiking boots (which performed admirably!), but I did find an insect—a largish black weevil torpidly crawling on the trail. Even on the relatively level lower portion of the trail once we got there was difficult, our legs really starting to feel the miles now. As we hiked the last mile back to the car, the temperature continued to plummet as it started to sprinkle, turning to rain soon after we reached the car and then heavy rain as we headed down the highway back to the east. The irony of the situation—rain coming to a parched landscape just when we are ready to leave—did not escape us. We’ll spend the night in Boise City and hope for a better forecast tomorrow!
Descending the upper slope on the High Point Trail.
Day 3 – Beaver Dunes State Park (Beaver Co.) Temps were down in the mid-40s when we awoke this morning, but skies were sunny and we were heartened by a promising forecast of continued sun and highs in the low to mid-60s. Our first destination—Beaver Dunes—was a relatively short 2-hour drive further east, and when we arrived sunny skies still prevailed. Unfortunately, temps still hovered in the mid-50s with a biting wind that made using the beating sheet difficult to impossible.
Dunes at Beaver Dunes State Park.
That said, I managed to beat a fair series of Agrilus spp. (probably mostly one species) and a few other beetles off living Celtis reticulata (net-veined hackberry) dotting the roadside along the entrance to the Picnic Area. Under the main group of hackberries I noticed new growth of Cucurbita foetedissima (buffalo gourd) along with last year’s dead stems. I’ve never collected Dorcasta cinerea (a longhorn beetle that utilizes buffalo gourd as a larval host), so I began splitting open the old stems to see if I could find unemerged adults. I didn’t, but what I did note inside the stems was evidence of boring by some insects and, eventually, the tiniest little scolytine bark beetles that I’ve ever seen. They were always found right at the node, usually in pairs (perhaps male and female?), and I ended up collecting a series of about a dozen specimens from two different stems.
Tradescantia occidentalis (prairie spiderwort, western spiderwort).
Also in the main group of hackberries, I noticed a dead branch hanging from the tree, which had fallen but gotten snagged on a lower branch to remain off the ground. The branch was obviously infested and showed a few emergence holes indicative of both buprestids and cerambycids, and when I broke into it I found two unemerged adult Agrilus (different species), which caused me to cut and bundle the branch to being back for rearing. At the entrance, I went to examine the stand of yellow flowers that greeted our arrival, determining them to be Pyrrhopappus pauciflorus (smallflower desert-chicory, Texas false dandelion). While I was on the ground photographing the flowers, I noticed a red and black hister beetle that proved to be Spilodiscus sp.—aptly named considering the two red maculations on the elytra. I also noticed a couple of tiger beetle larval burrows in the hard-packed sandy soil and found a long, thin plant stem to “fish” the larvae out. I managed to snag the larva in one of the burrows, which I believe is Tetracha carolina (Carolina metallic tiger beetle) by virtue of the thin white margin around the prothorax and the open habitat in which the larval burrow occurred. If this is true, then it is a second instar because it is slightly smaller than a typical Cicindela sp. third-instar larva.
Afterwards, I went over to the dunes to see if Mike had found anything, but temps were still too cold to see anything flying. He did, however, show me an interesting stand of Penstemon that he’d found and that we determined to be P. fendleri (Fendler’s penstemon). The plants were all on the north side of the dune in apparently protected spots, and I noted that on iNaturalist our observation was the northernmost record for the species (save one suspicious, disjunct Colorado record).
Penstemon fendleri (Fendler’s penstemon).
Penstemon fendleri (Fendler’s penstemon).
On the way back to the car, I beat a few more beetles off living Celtis reticulata. By now, we’d seen all we needed to see here and decided to head southeast to one of the Brachys barberi locations (that were the reason for this trip in the first place).
5 mi E of Harmon (Ellis Co.) This
Recently, another coleopterist collected Brachys barberi—more typically a southwestern species—on Quercus harvardii (shinnery oak) at this spot. I’ve not managed to find the species myself yet, and as it was collected on May 3rd last year I hoped the timing would be right. Quercus havardii dominated the landscape at this spot, mostly as thick stands of low-growing shrubs but also as a copse of small trees.
At first, I swept the lowest-growing plants, collecting a variety of mostly chrysomelids and curculionids and even one Agrilus sp., before moving to beating along the sunny edges of the patches of taller shrubs and collecting similar species (but no Agrilus sp.). Just to the north, I noticed a stand of individuals tall enough to be considered trees (presumably a clonal stand) and began beating them. Immediately I began collecting not only the chrysomelids and curculionds that I was collecting before, but also several Agrilus spp. and what must be Agrilaxia texana—a species represented in my cabinet by just two specimens that I collected in northeastern Texas way back in 1984.
I worked nearly the full perimeter of the copse, noticing that most of the beetles were being collected only on the south-facing sunny (and leeward) side. When I was just about ready to call it quits, a much larger black and yellow beetle landed on the sheet. For an instant I thought it was a lycid, but it moved characteristically like a longhorned beetle, and I quickly realized that I had collected Elytroleptus floridanus—a quite rare southeastern U.S. species that I have only seen once before when I reared a single individual from dead oak that I collected in the Missouri bootheel (and representing a new state record). I wasn’t sure the species had ever been recorded from Oklahoma, so I found Gryzmala’s revision of the genus online and saw that it had been previously recorded from the state—but all the way over on the east side near the border of Arkansas. All records from Texas as well are from the eastern side of the state, so today’s capture appears to represent a significant northwestern extension of the species’ known geographic range by about 300 miles!
Sadly, I never saw Brachys barberi, but collecting Elytroleptus floridanus (in Oklahoma!) was a pretty good consolation prize.😊
Day 4 – Prologue (“Good to Go” coffee shop) We awoke to bright sunny skies, and though a tad chilly it was still warmer than the previous mornings and with a good forecast to boot! It would take about an hour to drive to the day’s collecting spot—the one and only Gloss Mountain State Park (where we visited briefly a few days ago to start the trip), but not until after an unexpected and hilariously bizarre experience at a coffee shop in town called “Good to Go”.
“Good to Go” coffee shop lounge.
Mike was the first to notice the velociraptor in the lounge—saddled up for a ride! Okay, that’s cute. Then he noticed the sign on the outdoor display that read “Stegosaurs roamed the Earth about 5,000 years ago.” At first I thought, okay, they’re a little confused on the timeline, but what they’re trying to say is that dinosaurs lived a long time ago.
“Stegosaurs roamed the Earth about 5,000 years ago.”
Then I noticed a granite plaque in the background that clearly read “The Holy Bible”, and it dawned on me that we had entered a creationist’s den! Had we not already ordered our coffee, I might have surreptitiously tiptoed my long-haired hippy butt out of there before somebody pointed at me and began slowly chanting “Lucifer!”
Apparently this is overwhelming evidence that humans saw living dinosaurs.
Once we were outside the shop, our coffee secured and the need for hushed tones no longer muffling our reactions, we took a quick walk with the dinosaurs to admire their seeming scientific accuracy. I was impressed with the T. rex in particular, it’s body axis realistically horizontal with the tail straight and strong—not the lumbering, upright, tail-dragging version that I learned about as a kid. At least they were accepting some of the current body of scientific evidence on dinosaurs and ignoring only that dealing with their age—or so I thought…
A remarkably scientifically accurate rendition of T. rex with the more recently advocated horizontal posture.
The stegosaur as well appeared to be fairly accurately rendered, its tail also straight and strong and a youngster trailing closely behind, until I noticed something atop the adult—an angel riding it! ‘God’s creatures big and small’, I guess.
Note the angel riding the stegosaur!
The coup de grace was the information plaque behind the stegosaur. Rather than providing information on dinosaurs, I was instead treated to a barrage of hilariously unsupported claims advocating the idea that humans and dinosaurs once lived together. Each “factoid” on the plaque was more bizarre and quotable than the one before. Did you know that the adult stegosaur probably died 4,000 years ago in the Great Flood, but that the baby—happily—likely survived by getting a ride on the Ark with Noah! And all that scientific evidence that pinpoints the Cretaceous extinction to 65 million years ago? Apparently it has merely been fabricated as part of a global conspiracy because scientists just don’t want to agree with the Bible. I just about lost it, however, when I reached “It is uncertain if humans ever rode Dinosaurs, but there is overwhelming evidence that humans saw living dinosaurs.” I mean—What?!
I don’t even know where to begin!
Our unplanned morning entertainment now done, we hit the road for our next—and final—collecting spot for the trip.
Gloss Mountain State Park (Major Co.) We arrived at about 10 am with a plan to spend the rest of the day there—whether the collecting was good or bad, this would be our final stand. We hiked up to the mesa, stopping at an accessible spot about halfway up to work the trees (me) or set out pan traps (Mike). Beating the Celtis reticulata (net-veined hackberry) yielded a similar assortment of beetles as last time—a couple of Agrilus spp. along with the occasional chrysomelid or curculionoid and a few other beetles, and the same was true with Prosopis glandulosa (mesquite), with the exception that I did not find any Agrilus this time.
Gloss Mountain State Park – view west from atop gypsum-capped red clay mesa.
Atop the mesa, I decided to do an entire perimeter hike—something I’ve always wanted to do but never actually accomplished. The idea was to beat all of the C. reticulata, P. glandulosa, and Sapindus drummondii (soapberry) that I could find in an effort to “leave no stone unturned” in my quest for beetles. Soon after starting out, I saw a nice Pasimachus elongatus ground beetle running across the mesa top and “forced” it to cooperate for photos by pinning a hind tarsus to the ground with my finger tip (barely visible in the upper left side of the photo). I collected it, as well as another that I saw a short distance away, and then proceeded with the beatings! Beating the C. reticulata was quite productive, with perhaps three Agrilus spp. and numerous other beetles being collected off of nearly every tree that I beat. Beating P. glandulosa also was productive for various beetles, though again no Agrilus were encountered. The biggest surprise came when I started beating S. drummondii, most of which were still in the earliest stages of leafing out. I got nothing from most of the trees (the majority of which were clustered in a small copse near the front of the mesa), but in the back part of the cluster were a couple of trees with noticeably more foliage—beating them yielded perhaps a dozen Agrilus limpiae, a soapberry specialist that I haven’t seen in numbers since 1986 when I collected a series on soapberry in south-central Kansas.
Gloss Mountain State Park – view west from atop gypsum-capped red clay mesa.
Pasimachus elongatus (family Carabidae) atop gypsum-capped red clay mesa.
I rarely get anything beating Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia), but I beat most of the trees that I saw anyway and collected one cryptocephaline chrysomelid and two curculionoids. A single Eleodes hispilabris (apparently on its last leg) was seen near the north end of the mesa, which I photographed and collected, and on the way back I encountered a small patch of Sphaeralcea coccinea (scarlet globemallow) in bloom, from the flowers of which I collected a few small melyrid-type beetles and a small halictid bee for Mike. Also on the north part of the mesa I saw a young eastern collared lizard (Crotaphytus collaris), who posed just long enough for me to get off a shot before blasting away from my approaching lens.
Eleodes hispilabris (family Tenebrioindae) atop gypsum-capped red clay mesa.
Sphaeralcea coccinea (scarlet globemallow) atop gypsum-capped red clay mesa.
Crotaphytus collaris (eastern collared lizard) atop gypsum-capped red clay mesa.
Throughout the hike atop the mesa I kept my eye out for “new-to-me” plants (of which there are many), finding for the first time Toxicodendron radicans ssp. negundo (Midwestern poison ivy) and blooming individuals of Chaetopappa ericoides (rose heath). Physaria gordonii (Gordon’s bladderpod)—a relative of the federally threatened P. filiformis (Missouri bladderpod)—was blooming abundantly atop the mesa. At this point, Mike and I rejoined and relayed to each other our more notable findings. For Mike’s part, he had seen a couple of cacti that I had missed—Escobaria missouriensis (Missouri foxtail cactus) and Echinocereus reichenbachii perbellus (black lace cactus)—and took me to the spots where he had seen them. While retracing our steps, we also found Gaillardia suavis (pincushion daisy, perfumeballs) and the strikingly beautiful Penstemon cobaea (cobaea beardtongue, prairie beardtongue, foxglove penstemon).
By this time, I had been on the mesa top for five hours, and even though temperatures were mild (mid-70s) I desperately needed food and water. Mike, for his part, had also had a wildly successful day with bees, capturing many at the flowers and many more in the various pan traps (both in top and halfway up the slope). I descended the steep slope with its mixture of metal steps, cut rock, and wooden planks and enjoyed a quick feast of sardines and Triscuits (a decades-long bug-collecting-trip staple) washed down with Gatorade before getting back to work on the mesquite around the parking lot. I was committed to trying to find Agrilus on the plants—a single individual of which I’d beaten from the plants three days earlier, and after beating several plants and seeing none (but collecting a great number of clytrine and cryptocephaline chrysomelids along with other insects) I finally found one! I continued to work the trees and collect primarily chrysomelids, but no more Agrilus were seen. I am hopeful that it will be a southwestern species not currently known from Oklahoma—a situation I have found with several other Prosopis-associated beetles in this part of northwestern Oklahoma.
Gloss Mountain State Park – view north from atop gypsum-capped red clay mesa.
Gloss Mountain State Park – history of the name.
I hadn’t intended to work any additional Prosopis beyond the road into the parking lot, but there were a few particularly large trees along the front of the park next to the highway rest stop. The first one I beat yielded a very large cryptocephaline that I had not seen on any of the other Prosopis, so I continued beating them and collected a nice series along with a few other clytrines, pachybrachines, and curculionoids. At the furthest point west, I recalled having seen during a previous visit a western diamondback rattlesnake a bit further to the west, so I continued to the spot hoping to see another. No such luck, so I tiptoed through the tall grass back to safety and made my way back to the car to wrap up seven and a half hours of collecting on a spectacular day—sadly, the last of the trip!
Epilogue This trip was just a warm-up. In just over one week, I will head out again—this time to western Texas and southern Arizona for sure, and maybe elsewhere depending on how things go. At three weeks, it will be the longest collecting trip I’ve done since I went to South Africa in 1999 and Ecuador 10 years before that. I’m also looking forward to meeting up with a number of other coleopterists at various points during the trip—Jason Hansen, Joshua Basham, and Tyler Hedlund in Texas, and Norm Woodley and Steve Lingafelter in Arizona. If there is time, I may stop off at a place or two in northeastern New Mexico and at Black Mesa on the way back. Look for an iReport on that trip sometime in early-mid June!
The pine flatlands of the southeastern Coastal Plain offer an interesting contrast to the upland forests of my home state of Missouri. Closed canopies of oak and hickory are replaced by open canopies of pond and longleaf pine. Dry glades—islands of prairie dotting the forests—are replaced by bogs and bays—oases of wetland punctuating the sandy scrub. In both places, however, fire plays an important role in shaping and preserving these unique habitats. In this ~10,000-acre preserve, prescribed burns spare the heat-tolerant pines—their trunks blackened and scorched but the living branches high above unharmed—and prevent woody shrubs from choking out herbaceous plants, including famously insectivorous plants such as Venus fly traps, sundews, and pitcher plants. I had yet to have seen any of these plants in their native habitats, and after learning of this place and their presence here from a local resident, Madam and I made a beeline to the preserve for an afternoon of botanical hiking.
Pine flatlands at Lewis Ocean Bay Heritage Preserve & Wildlife Management Area.
Almost immediately after starting down the road from the parking lot, I noticed white blossoms dotting the forest floor. Approaching closer revealed them to be wild azaleas—in this case Rhododendron viscosum (swamp azalea). Individually, the petite plants with their crowns of oversized blooms were quaintly beautiful. En masse, clustered on the forest floor, they were an amazing sight to see.
Rhododendron viscosum (swamp azalea) in pine flatland.
Rhododendron viscosum (swamp azalea).
The going was slow in the beginning, with something new to me at every turn. A species of Nuttallanthus (toadflax)—either N. texanus (Texas toadflax) or N. canadensis (Canada toadflax), depending on details of flower dimensions—bloomed abundantly in the sunny openings. A small purple flower was at first assumed to be a species of Tradescantia (spidorwort) but proved to be the related Callisia graminea (grassleaf roseling)—a new genus for me. A bit further down the road we encountered orange flowers that proved to be Polygala lutea (orange milkwort). This genus is represented in Missouri by several species, all having flowers of pink, yellow, or white.
Nuttallanthus (toadflax)—either N. texanus (Texas toadflax) or N. canadensis (Canada toadflax).
Callisia ornata (scrub roseling).
Polygala lutea (orange milkwort).
Flowers were not limited to herbaceous plants. The evergreen woody shrub layer was just coming back to life with new growth, a few of which bore distinctive blossoms identifying them as members of the genus Vaccinium (blueberry). There are several potential species that could be here.
Vaccinium sp. (blueberry).
At one point, Madam called me to the other side of the road, pointing to a strange plant at the edge of a wet area and asking “What’s that?” Bingo—I recognized it instantly as one of the so-called “pitcher plants” (genus Sarracenia), among the most dramatically charismatic of the insectivorous plants. Pitcher plants trap insects using a rolled leaf with downward pointing hairs on the inside and the uppermost part of the leaf flared into a lid (or operculum) to prevent rain from diluting the digestive secretions pooled at the bottom of the leaf. Though a bit past bloom, it was easily identifiable as S. flava (yellow pitcher plant). We were thrilled to have seen our first pitcher plant in the wild, and we looked forward to seeing more (hopefully in full bloom).
Sarracenia flava (yellow pitcher plant).
As we scanned the edge of the wetland looking for more pitcher plants, I noticed tiny white flowers on the small shrubs underfoot. They looked rather “hollyish” to me, and indeed they proved to be Ilex glabra (gallberry), a species of evergreen holly native to the coastal plain of eastern North America and most commonly found in sandy woods and peripheries of swamps and bogs.
Ilex glabra (gallberry).
At this time of season, I was expecting to see insects well active, and this was certainly the case with butterflies—the most common being a species of swallowtail that oxymoronically reminded me of a small giant swallowtail (Papilio cresphontes) but in reality were Papilio palamedes (Palamedes swallowtail). I’m a beetle guy, however, so I was happy to find a few Acmaeodera tubulus jewel beetles on flowers of Erigeron sp. (fleabane), and when I saw a standing recently-dead pine beyond the wet drainage I decided to check it for other jewel beetles on its trunk. As I started to step across the water, a small purplish plant on a piece of wood in the water caught my eye, and I immediately recognized it as one of the sundews (genus Drosera), another genus of insectivorous plants that capture and digest insects using stalked mucilaginous glands that cover their leaf surfaces. This is one of the largest genera of insectivorous plants, but I take this one to be D. intermedia (spoonleaf sundew).
Drosera intermedia (spoonleaf sundew).
Drosera intermedia (spoonleaf sundew).
About a mile and a half from the car, we finally found what we had been hoping to see since soon after we arrived—Sarracenia flava (yellow pitcher plant) in full bloom. A rather large patch of them was visible from afar, their yellow blooms glowing in the sunlight, but sadly most of them were slightly or greatly past peak bloom. A bit further back, however, on the other side of the water, I spotted two single plants in perfect bloom, their petals fresh and intact and making the effort to find a way across the water well worth the effort. Other plants without blooms but with fresh, brightly colored “pitchers” were also seen along the water’s edge.
Sarracenia flava (yellow pitcher plant).
Sarracenia flava (yellow pitcher plant).
Sarracenia flava (yellow pitcher plant).
As we admired the spectacle in front of us, I noticed a clump of red within the vegetation at water’s edge and realized we were looking at another species of pitcher plant—Sarracenia purpurea (purple pitcher plant)! How fortunate we were to see this clump—the only one we saw—which was in perfect bloom and with colorful, freshly-formed pitchers whose squat form contrasted notably from the tall, slender, graceful pitchers of S. flava right next to it.
Sarracenia purpurea (purple pitcher plant).
Sarracenia purpurea (purple pitcher plant).
Sarracenia purpurea (purple pitcher plant).
By now, the April heat had taken a noticeable toll on the conditioning of these two recently-escaped-from-winter Midwesterners. Having found the Holy Grail for the day, we began the long, tired slog back to the car—our legs dragging but our spirits soaring.
This week’s destination for the WGNSS Botany Group outing was St. Joe State Park, where the western portion of the Bicyle/Hiking Trail runs along a prime example of dry post oak woodland. Such woodlands were common in Missouri during pre-settlement times but have been largely eliminated from the present-day landscape due to incompatible land management practices, including fire suppression. Post oak woodlands depend upon periodic fires to maintain an open canopy, allowing a rich ground layer of native grasses and forbs to flourish in the abundant sunlight. In pre-settlement times, this happened naturally as a result of lightning strikes; however, remnant post oak woodlands exist today largely as a result of active landscape management including the use of prescribed burns and selective thinning. Evidence of these practices was easy to find in this remarkably restored example of an original post oak woodland.
Prescribed burns help to maintain an open canopy and a rich herbaceous ground layer.
Selective girdling optimizes species composition while minimizing ground layer disturbance.
At the end of January, there is still a lot of winter left to endure—far too early to be thinking about the still-distant-spring even at our “middlin’ latitudes.” Nevertheless, even at this early date, the buds of Ulmus rubra (slippery elm) are noticeably swollen. (I’ve always felt “slippery” was a misnomer for this species. I know it refers to the slippery texture of the inner bark when chewed, but the leaves are rough, and the twigs are rough, and the buds are rough as well—and who even does that [chews the inner bark] anymore?!) It is this roughness to the leaves that most easily distinguishes U. rubra from the similar U. americana (American elm), but during winter it’s fuzzy, rusty-red buds provide the clue instead. If one has a pocketknife, a slice into the bark to look for alternating light/dark layers (the absence of which signifies U. rubra) can also be used.
Ulmus rubra (slippery elm).
The rich ground layer of a post oak woodland dazzles during spring and summer, the temporal sequence of floral displays belying the diversity that produces it. This diversity does not disappear during the winter, nor does the evidence of it—it merely expresses itself in different form. To recognize the plants that are there, one must train their eyes to see these different versions of them. Bright yellow flowers are replaced by dry seed boxes… fleshy green leaves with purple ball inflorescences are replaced by naked stems with dehiscent pods… delicate white petals are replaced by prickly pods. The ability to recognize the elements of a landscape at any moment—not just at their most beautiful—makes it easier to enjoy the landscape itself at any moment. Following are some of the plants we saw, no doubt distinctive when in bloom, but also recognizable when not if one knows what to look for.
Dasistoma macrophylla (mullein foxglove).
Anemone virginiana (tall thimbleweed).
Manfreda virginica (formerly Aloe virginica—false aloe, rattlesnake master, Virginia agave).
Dioscorea villosa (wolf yam).
Asclepias purpurascens (purple milkweed).
During the previous week’s outing at Hawn State Park, the group spent a fair amount of time distinguishing Missouri’s five species of Betulaceae—all of which can be found growing together along the banks of Pickle Creek. One is not likely to see three of them along the margins of a dry post oak woodland, but the two remaining—Corylus americana (American hazelnut) and Ostrya virginiana (American hop hornbeam), both much more tolerant of drier situations—were seen in abundance. These two species also happen to be the two that are most often confused with each other—especially during winter, giving the group another opportunity to study their subtle differences. Both develop male catkins during the winter, but those of C. americana tend to be larger, lighter in color, and frequently occurring singly along the branch. The winter twigs are a bit more distinctive—with tiny hairs and rounded buds in the former, versus hairless with pointed buds in the latter. Of course, of the two, only O. virginiana produces the distinctive hops-like fruits that often persist into the winter, so their presence immediately identifies any plant possessing them.
Corylus americana (American hazelnut) (L) versus Ostrya virginiana (American hophornbeam) (R) – male catkins.
Corylus americana (American hazelnut) (L) versus Ostrya virginiana (American hophornbeam) (R) – winter buds.
Ostrya virginiana (American hophornbeam) (R) – last season’s fruit.
Direct comparisons of winter twigs proves to be a useful identification technique for other similar species pairs—even those in the same genus. Acer saccharum (sugar maple) and A. rubrum (red maple) often grow in close proximity and are similar enough to be frequently confused. When twigs of the two are placed next to each other, however, the differences are apparent. Color alone—A. rubrum usually exhibiting a reddish tinge to the twigs and buds—is not always diagnostic, and both species have what could be called pointed buds. Touch the tips, however—the buds of A. saccharum are sharp enough to prick the finger, while those of A. rubrum are blunted just enough to avoid feeling the prick.
Along the length of the trail, I noted an abundance of dry, persistent flower stalks of Hydrangea arborescens (American hydrangea) colonizing the bordering rock ledges. Normally found in moist (and frequently inaccessible) situations, its presence in a dry post oak woodland suggests drainage through the layers of dolomite underneath the woodland reaches the surface in these exposed toe-slopes, keeping them persistently moist. While the promised floral display in June is reason enough to return, my interest in woodboring beetles provides additional motivation, as its flowers are a favorite of a diverse group of woodboring beetles call flower longhorns (subfamily Lepturinae)—some of which having been associated only with this plant. Time to mark the calendar!
Members of the WGNSS Botany Group (L–R): Keith Woodyard, Eileen & Tom Buescher, Alan Brandt (hidden), John Oliver, Kathy Thiele (hidden), Burt Noll, Michael Laschober, Pete Kozich.
Pinus echinata (shortleaf pine) woodland at Hawn State Park.
Nestled in the northern foothills of the St. Francois Mountains lies one of Missouri’s most remarkable of places—Hawn State Park. I have written about this place onseveraloccasions and visited even more often, yet I never tire of exploring its sandstone canyons, rhyolite shut-ins, and stately pine forests. As such, I was happy to see it as the selected destination for the WGNSS Botany Group Monday Walk.
A partially frozen Pickle Creek meanders through Hawn State Park.
It was a chilly winter morning when the group met at the picnic area parking lot, and after a bit of discussion to orient ourselves on the plants we might see, we crossed the foot bridge over Pickle Creek to explore the habitats off the Whispering Pines Trail. Almost immediately (in fact, even before completely crossing the bridge), we noticed Alnus serrulata (smooth alder) lining the edges of the creek banks. Unlike many trees, A. serrulata is easy to recognize during winter by virtue of its persistent female cones and newly-formed male catkins. Alnus serrulata is one of five species in Missouri belonging to the family Betulaceae—all five of which occur together here in Hawn State Park (and, in fact, can be found within feet of each other). In the case of this species, the female cones are unique, the male catkins are green and red and occur during winter in clumps, and the winter buds are red with two scales.
Alnus serrulata (smooth alder) – newly-emerged male catkins.
Alnus serrulata (smooth alder) – winter buds.
Immediately after crossing the bridge, we saw the second betulaceous species on slightly higher ground—Corylus americana (American hazelnut). Like A. serrulata, this species is usually a small tree, but it lacks the persistent cones during winter, has more brownish male catkins that may be clumped, especially at the branch tips, but also tend to occur singly along the length of the branch, and has brownish, rounded winter buds and noticeably fuzzy twigs.
Corylus americana (American hazelnut) – male catkins.
Corylus americana (American hazelnut) – winter bud.
Corylus americana (American hazelnut) – male catkins.
Entering the mixed pine-oak forest (and pondering Fr. Sullivan’s oak ID quiz—which turned out to be Quercus coccinea, or scarlet oak), Kathy noticed the persistent fruiting stalks of one of our native terrestrial orchids—Goodyera pubescens (downy rattlesnake plantain). Normally, this orchid is noticed during winter by virtue of its striking white-veined green leaves, but in this case they were completely hidden under leaf litter. Had it not been for the fruiting stalk, we would never have noticed its presence. Hawn State Park has a healthy population of these orchids, and hopefully the fruits of this individual will bear an abundance of its tiny (spore-sized) seeds.
Goodyera pubescens (downy rattlesnake plantain) – last season’s fruiting stalk.
Continuing our off-trail bushwhacking, we eventually reached a series of sandstone canyons that promised not only spectacular ice formations from their constant moisture drip, but the potential for seeing plants that rely on the cool, shaded, moist, acidic nooks and crannies they offer.
Sandstone ledges.
Two fern species were seen. The first was Asplenium platyneuron (ebony spleenwort)—not uncommon and distinguished by the dark, reddish-brown, glossy stipe and rachis (on fertile fronds) with simple pinnate leaves and alternately-arranged leaflets with a basal auricle (ear-lobe). Two columns of elongated sori (spore-bearing structures) oriented diagonally to the central veins can be found on their lower surface of the leaflets. Dryopteris marginalis (marginal wood fern) was also found on the sandstone ledges. This fern is most easily identified by the location of its sori on fertile fronds, which occur along the margins of its subleaflets (some other less common species will have the sori placed more interiorly).
Dryopteris marginalis (marginal wood fern) – lower surface of lower leaves of fertile frond.
The most exciting find on the sandstone ledges was Mitchella repens (partridge berry). This member of the Rubiaceae (same family as coffee) is characteristic of sandstone canyons and ledges and occurs in Missouri only in a few counties in the southeastern part of the state where this habitat exists. The plant is unmistakable and easily identified, especially when in fruit. Interestingly, each of its bright red berries is actually a fusion of two fruits, as evidenced by the pair of minute, persistent calyces at the tip.
Mitchella repens (partridge berry).
Mitchella repens (partridge berry) – fruit showing paired calyces.
Back on-trail, the group focused on identifying the many different tree species along the trail (Quercus coccinea was dominant). One small “tree” had us stumped, however, it’s giant terminal bud with small lateral buds clustered nearby seemingly suggesting oak—until we noted the curious whorl at the branch node and, on a subsequently-seen individual, persistent fruit capsules that immediately identified it as Rhododendron prinophyllum (early azalea). Another lover of acidic pine woodlands, this species is restricted in Missouri to high-quality habitats in the Ozark Plateau, and Hawn State Park has some of the finest populations to be found.
Rhododendron prinophyllum (early azalea) – last season’s fruiting capsules.
As the group ascended the trail and began pondering whether to turn around, the characteristic leaves of a small saxifrage were seen at the base of an oak tree. Micranthes virginiensis (early saxifrage, Virginia saxifrage) shows a preference for rocky acid soils and reaches the western limit of its distribution in Missouri, where it is limited to a few counties in the Ozarks. A similar but much smaller species, Micranthes texana (Texas saxifrage) can be found in sandstone glades in western Missouri.
Micranthes virginiensis (early saxifrage, Virginia saxifrage).
Micranthes virginiensis (early saxifrage, Virginia saxifrage) – last season’s fruiting stalk.
Returning to Pickle Creek, the group focused on the remaining three species of Betulaceae found in Missouri—and Hawn State Park, all growing in the immediate vicinity of the foot bridge. The three species—Betula nigra (river birch), Carpinus caroliniana (American hornbeam, musclewood, blue beech), and Ostrya virginiana (American hophornbeam), all have numerous subtle characters that distinguish them from the other two members of the family (Alnus and Corylus), but in winter they are most easily recognized by their bark. The flaky, peeling, cinnamon-brown bark of B. nigra is the most distinctive and cannot be mistaken for anything else. This contrasts completely with the smooth, gray, sinuous look of C. caroliniana (which I can’t help but stroke whenever I see it—should I be admitting that!?). In between is the rough, shredded, brownish appearance of O. virginiana (which is further distinguished from C. americana by its pointed rather than rounded buds).
Betula nigra (river birch) – bark.
Carpinus caroliniana (American hornbeam, musclewood, blue beech) – bark.
Beetles In The Bush 