2024 New Mexico Insect Collecting Trip iReport: Finale

Welcome to the 16th “Collecting Trip iReport” covering this season’s third—and final—insect collecting trip to eastern and southern New Mexico. This trip occurred during September 9–18, following “Act 2” on June 17–28 and “Act 1” on May 14–25, and had the objective of retrieving 18 “jug traps” and six “bottle” traps placed on the first trip. Unlike the previous two trips, I traveled solo this time, but I still managed to visit 16 different localities—14 in New Mexico, one in Oklahoma, and one in Kansas.

Per usual, this report assembles field notes largely as they were generated during the trip. They have been lightly “polished” but not substantially modified based on subsequent examination of collected specimens unless expressly indicated by “[Edit…]” in square brackets. Unlike my previous two trips this season, I did bring my “big” camera and took lots of macro photographs of insects in the field—these will be featured in future individual posts. However, as always, this “iReport” features iPhone photographs exclusively. Previous iReports in this series are:
2013 Oklahoma
2013 Great Basin
2014 Great Plains
2015 Texas
2018 New Mexico/Texas
2018 Arizona
2019 Arkansas/Oklahoma
2019 Arizona/California
2021 West Texas
2021 Southwestern U.S.
2022 Oklahoma
2022 Southwestern U.S.
2023 Southwestern U.S.
2024 New Mexico: Act 1
2024 New Mexico: Act 2


Day 1

3.2 mi SSW of Piqua
Woodson County,
Kansas
On my way to Black Mesa State Park (in the northwestern corner of Oklahoma) where I will be spending the night, I stopped at this abandoned quarry at the suggestion of Dan Heffern, who grew up in the area and collected his first Megacyllene decora (amorpha borer) here as a teenager on the Amorpha fruticosa that grows commonly on the steep banks surrounding the now water-filled reservoir.

Abandoned quarry lined with Amorpha fruticosa.

The timing seemed right, as patches of goldenrod (Solidago sp.) surrounding the reservoir were also just coming into bloom, but no adults were seen on either the stems of amorpha or the flowers of goldenrod. I did get to see a garter snake try (and fail) to catch a leopard frog. The snake had hold of the frog by one of its hind legs, but the frog used its other hind leg to eventually free himself while peeping desperately. I was kind of rooting for the frog, even though it would have been interesting to watch the snake as it ingested its prey.

A common garter snake (Thamnophis sirtalis) captures—momentarily—a leopard frog (Lithobates sp.).

I was hoping to make it to Black Mesa State Park (at the far western end of the Oklahoma panhandle) before dark, but the sun setting on a lonely stretch of highway well beforehand told me that wouldn’t be possible.

The sun sets in a lonely stretch of highway in far southwestern Kansas.

Black Mesa State Park
West Canyon Campground
Cimarron County, Oklahoma

I arrived at the park well after sunset, but the tent went up quickly and I found a Cicindelidia punctulata (punctured tiger beetle) on the exposed clay after I finished.

Cicindelidia punctulata (punctured tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) on clay exposure in juniper chaparral. The greenish cast suggests the population in this area represents an integrade between the nominotypical eastern subspecies and the western C. p. chihuahuae.

This prompted me to put the headlamp on and walk the roads to look for beetles. Amblycheila cylindriformis (Great Plains giant tiger beetle) has been taken in the park, though in July (September is likely a bit too late). Nevertheless, I walked to the spot where it had been found about a mile up the road, scanning the road with my headlamp as I walked.

Phoetaliotes nebrascensis (large-headed grasshopper—family Acrididae) in juniper chaparral at night.

A few big black Eleodes darkling beetles gave me the occasional false start, but in the end I did not find the tiger beetle. I did, however, get to see a beautiful 1st-quarter moonset amidst light high clouds and a starry starry night.

A waxing crescent moon glows feebly in the western sky.

Day 2

0.1 mi S Hwy 325 on D0035 Rd
Cimarron County, Oklahoma

There is an iNat record of an Amblycheila cylindriformis (Great Plains giant tiger beetle) larval burrow at this spot. Even though the record is a couple of years old, I thought I’d stop by and see if I could find one for myself. I did, fairly quickly I might add, right along the top edge of the steeply-sloped clay embankment alongside the road.

Amblycheila cylindriformis (Great Plains giant tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) larval burrow at top edge of sloped clay embankment in mesquite chaparral.

A bit more searching nearby revealed the carcass of an adult embedded in the clay slope—I dug it out (in pieces) and saw the abdomen covered with a bit of spider webbing. I’m still not sure how it came to be embedded within the clay with only the head and probotum exposed.

Amblycheila cylindriformis (Great Plains giant tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) cadaver embedded in sloped clay embankment in mesquite chaparral.
Amblycheila cylindriformis (Great Plains giant tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) cadaver excavated from sloped clay embankment in mesquite chaparral.

Mills Rim Campground
Kiowa National Grassland
Harding County, New Mexico

It took a couple of hours of driving to get to this, the first of six trap locations I have in New Mexico. I was happy to see all three jug traps still hanging, intact, and full of catch. All three had lots of Euphoria (mostly fulgida) and a fair number of elaterids, but other than a single Tragosoma sp. (I haven’t collected one of these in many years!) in the SRW trap the cerambycids seemed limited to just a few elaphidiines. The bottle trap had lots of bees (for Mike) and Euphoria kerni, but I did see a few Acmaeodera spp. and—remarkably—another Tragosoma sp. (an unusual catch for a bottle trap!).

Rim above Mills Canyon.

While I was checking the traps, I kept an eye out for tiger beetles and flower-visiting longhorns and buprestids. I did see one Acmaeodera rubronotata on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothroides (broom snakeweed), but this was the only one despite looking at many flowers and I chose not to linger.

“San Jon Hill”
9.3 mi S of San Jon
Quay County, New Mexico

Another two-hour drive brought me to “San Jon Hill”—a sandstone escarpment at the edge of a plateau featuring juniper/oak/pinyon woodland. Again, all three of my jug traps were still hanging and intact, and the SRW and SRW/EtOH traps were full of beetles! The EtOH trap, on the other hand, was bone-dry with far fewer specimens. Like Mills Rim, Euphoria (again, mostly fulgida) were dominant, but I was elated to see multiple Enaphalodes hispicornis (a species I’ve never collected) along with a few E. atomarius in all the traps. The SRW/EtOH and EtOH traps also had several Aethecerinus wilsonii—a great find that I first got near Kenton last year. There was also a Stenaspis solitaria in the EtOH trap along with the expected smattering of elaphidiines and elaterids in all three traps. The bottle trap also was overwhelmed, primarily with bees (for Mike), but I did see a fair number of Acmaeodera spp. (I’m hoping this includes A. robigo, one of which was in this trap last time).

Aethecerinus wilsonii (family Cerambycidae) taken in EtOH-baited “jug” trap in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.
Stenaspis solitaria (family Cerambycidae) taken in EtOH-baited “jug” trap in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.
Enaphalodes hispicornis (family Cerambycidae) taken in EtOH-baited “jug” trap in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.

Otherwise, I saw little insect activity despite the abundance of plants in flower—a Eusattus reticulatus (sand darkling beetle) crawling on the ground being my only other capture.

Eusattus reticulatus (sand darkling beetle—family Tenebrionidae) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland on sandstone escarpment.

Continuing further south towards Oasis State Park, there is a field of wind turbines that, on my previous passing, provided a picturesque scene. This time again provided such opportunity.

Bovines bunch beneath a wind turbine.

Oasis State Park
Roosevelt County, New Mexico

The drive from my last stop was supposed to be only 1½ hours, but having to reroute after sitting a while for a motionless train and an unexpected but welcome FaceTime call with my grandson conspired to delay my arrival at the park until well after darkness had settled. No problem—I’ve set up many a tent in the dark, and the burger cooked on the grill afterwards was no less tasty. (I also had sufficient reception to relish watching Kamala Harris clean TFG’s clock, which was followed “Swiftly” by a major endorsement and only served to further buoy my mood.) After the evening’s entertainment, I set out to check a couple of light sources in the park to see if they’d attracted any beetles—a small utility building near the RV campground, and a mercury-vapor streetlight closer to the tent campground. Tenebrionids abounded in number and diversity under both light sources, and I took from each several examples of the weirdly-explanate Embaphion muricatum.

Eleodes extricata (extricated darkling beetle—family Tenebrionidae) mercury mercury-vapor light in sand dune habitat.
Embaphion muricatum (family Tenebrionidae) under mercury mercury-vapor light in sand dune habitat.

Scarabs were limited mostly to small melolonthine, but I did pick up nice series of at least two species of bolboceratine geotrupids.

Eucanthus sp. (family Geotrupidae) under mercury mercury-vapor light in sand dune habitat.

I had hoped to encounter the sand dune endemic longhorned beetle, Prionus spinipennis (I don’t know if it actually occurs here), but on my last visit in June I encountered its early-season counterpart P. arenarius. None were seen, however, so I am hopeful that I find it further south at Mescalero Sands, where it is known to occur and where I plan to go in the next couple of days.


Day 3

Passing through Portales in the morning, I did a double-take as I passed this “low rider.” I circled around the block so I could get another look, and for the rest of the day I had the eponymous song from Cheech & Chong’s Up In Smoke as a brain-worm.

“All my friends know the low rider (yeah)”

Portales Recreation Complex
Roosevelt County, New Mexico

My first stop for the day turned out to feature little-disturbed (i.e., ungrazed) dry grassland surrounding the ballfields. There are some iNat records of a couple of fall-occurring longhorned beetles (Megacyllene angulifera, Tragidion coquus) from here, so I thought I’d try my luck as I head south towards Mescalero Sands. The season felt a little early, as even though there were plenty of Helianthus annuus (annual sunflower) in bloom, the Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed) was not. Still, I checked the sunflowers but saw only Chauliognathus basalis (Colorado soldier beetles) in abundance. The visit was “not for naught,” however—walking the sandy loam 2-track through the lower west side I encountered three species of tiger beetles: Jundlandia lemniscata rebaptisata (rouged tiger beetle), Cicindelidia punctulata chihuahuae (Chihuahua punctured tiger beetle), and—my favorite—Cicindelidia obsoleta obsoleta (large grassland tiger beetle).

Jundlandia lemniscata rebaptisata (rouged tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) on sandy-loam 2-track through dry grassland.
Cicindelidia punctulata chihuahuae (Chihuahua tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) on sandy-loam 2-track through dry grassland.
Cicindelidia obsoleta obsoleta (large grassland tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) on sandy-loam 2-track through dry grassland.

“Mydas Alley”
6.6–6.9 mi S of Floyd
Roosevelt County, New Mexico

There are some iNat records of several interesting tiger beetles at this spot—an endless dry grassland with a sandy/red clay 2-track cutting through it. These include Cicindela formosa rutilovirescens (Mescalero Sands tiger beetle)—a main target for the trip, Cicindelidia obsoleta obsoleta (large grassland tiger beetle), and Cicindelidia nigrocoerulea (black sky tiger beetle).

Sandy-loam 2-track at “Mydas Alley.”

I didn’t have much expectation for the latter, since the record is based on a single, dead individual, and I’d just found C. o. obsoleta at the previous site closer to Portales, but I was really hoping to find C. f. rutilovirescens. Almost immediately I caught what I thought could be C. nigrocoerulea on the sandy/red clay 2-track near where I parked; however, it turned out to be the similar Cicindelidia punctulata chihuahuae (Chihuahua punctured tiger beetle), distinguishable by the single seta on the basal antennomere instead of two (an eyeglass on a lanyard around the neck at all times can really come in handy), its subparallel elytra that are slight wider posteriorly rather than subarcuate, and the generally shinier rather than opaque surface of its elytra.

Cicindelidia punctulata chihuahuae (Chihuahua tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) on sandy-loam 2-track through dry grassland.

I found more C. punctulata further down the 2-track (although they looked more like the nominotypical subspecies due to their dark brown rather than greenish coloration), and I found myself paying attention to almost every C. punctulata that I encountered hoping one might be C. nigrocoerulea. Sadly, none would prove to be the latter (at least based on my examination in the field—subsequent closer examination at home may prove otherwise). I did, however, encounter a single Cicindela scutellaris scutellaris (festive tiger beetle) to add another tiger beetle species to the trip list.

Cicindela scutellaris scutellaris (festive tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) on sandy-loam 2-track through dry grassland.

At the far end of the 2-track, I noticed something sitting on the stem of Eriogonum annuus (annual buckwheat) and was delighted to see it was Crossideus discoideus—one of the genera of fall-active longhorned beetles that I was hoping to encounter on the trip.

Crossidius discoideus (family Cerambycidae) on stem of Eriogonum annuum (annual buckwheat) in dry grassland.

A bit of careful searching in the immediate vicinity revealed more individuals on the stems and flowers of the plants growing in the area, and on the way back I found another C. discoideus on the spent flower of Heterotheca subaxillaris (camphorweed) near the front part of the 2-track. I had not, however, seen my main objective—C. f. rutilovirescens—and was beginning to resign myself to getting skunked on the species. As I reached the car and turned to go briefly down the 2-track to the east, however, I saw one on the more wide open section of the 2-track, then quickly saw another! Those would be the only two I would see until I turned back and approached the car again, seeing the third and final individual of the stop.

Cicindela formosa rutilovirescens (Mescalero Sands tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) on sandy-loam 2-track through dry grassland.

I was hoping to get field photos with the “big” camera, but their scarcity made me decide to wait for my next chance at Mescalero Sands, where I hope to find them as well. The number of tiger beetle species seen on the trip now stands at six (if I include the Amblycheila cylindriformis carcass seen yesterday in the Oklahoma panhandle).

Presler Lake
Chaves County, New Mexico

Over the past couple of years, I have begun to rely ever more heavily on the natural history platform iNaturalist as a source for finding promising localities for interesting species. The first two localities I visited today were both found prior to my departure on this trip while searching for localities where species of Buprestidae, Cerambycidae, and Cicindelidae have been recorded. This locality was not found before I left, but rather after I left the last spot and saw that several species of beetles, including Eunota togata globicollis (alkali tiger beetle), had been reported from the area around this alkaline lake.

Alkaline flats around Presler Lake.

As I walked toward the lake, I noticed lots of Isocoma pluriflora (southern goldenbush), normally a good host for Crossidius longhorned beetles, that was already past bloom and wondered if any Crossidius would still be found on them. As I reached the lake margin, I saw a  Crossidius suturalis male, but it was instead perched on Atriplex canescens (four-winged saltbush). No sooner than after I had photographed the beetle, marked its location, and made an entry in my notes, I noticed another—this one a big female perched on the spent bloom of I. pluriflora.

Crossidius suturalis suturalis (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Isocoma pluriflora (southern goldenbush) along margin of alkaline lake.

The locality where E. t. globicollis had been recorded was on the far west side of the lake, so I walked the lake margin in that direction while checking the saltbush and goldenbush along the way. It was quite a while before I found another C. suturalis on I. pluriflora, and on another plant very nearby I found a nice little cetoniine scarab: Euphoria pilipennis—a species I’ve never collected before.

Euphoria pilipennis (family Scarabaeidae) on flowers of Isocoma pluriflora (southern goldenbush) along margin of alkaline lake.

The walking and checking was eating up time, however, and I noticed that the sun was beginning to dip rather low in the western sky. I needed to focus on finding E. t. globicollis if I wanted to get back to the car before it got dark (I would still have another hour’s drive to get to my campground near Roswell). I’d walked towards the lake margin earlier, going as far as I could go toward the water before my shoes started sinking into the thick, alkaline-encrusted mud, and didn’t see any tiger beetles, so I was not really expecting to see the species (it had been recorded there during the height of the summer). Remarkably, right as I made my closest approach to the spot, I saw one—E. t. globicollis running on the wet mud near the water’s edge of the alkaline lake.

Eunota togata globicollis (alkali tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) along wet margin of alkaline lake.

I walked the margin all the way back to where I needed to divert back to the car and saw several more individual, but I was unsuccessful in capturing any beyond the first one!

Bedtime for tiger beetles approaches.

As I neared the car and the sun sank behind the horizon, I assumed the day’s collecting was done. Just then, I noticed a Gyascutus sp. sitting on Atriplex canescens (based on location, I suspect it is G. planicosta obliteratus), and within a few steps from there I saw another C. suturalis on I. pluriflora. This prompted some additional looking in the area around the car, but eventually the light became too dim to allow effective searching. It was an impromptu stop at an unlikely location and ended up being a successful stop for the trip.


Day 4

Palmer Lake Campground
Bottomless Lakes State Park
Chaves County, New Mexico

I arrived at my favorite campsite in this campground well after dark last night, so I was pleased to see the area as green as could ever be imagined when I awoke this morning. Copious blooms of Allionia incarnata (trailing four o’clock) and Kallstroemia parviflora (small-flowered carpetweed) were blanketing the adjacent gypsum/red siltstone slopes.

Allionia incarnata (trailing four o’clock—family Nyctaginaceae) on slope below gypsum/red siltstone escarpment.

Not much of note was seen on the blooms, but I did find the fascinatingly-inflated Cysteodemus wislizeni (black bladder-bodied blister beetle) crawling on the ground amongst them.

Cysteodemus wislizeni (black bladder-bodied blister beetle—family Meloidae) on slope below gypsum/red siltstone escarpment.

A quick walk up into the draw behind the campsite also revealed little besides a variety of darkling beetles (family Tenebrionidae)—some of them monstrously-sized. However, once back at the campsite I found a rather beat up right elytron of what I believe to be Amblycheila picolominii (plateau giant tiger beetle). Since I included A. cylindriformis (Great Plains giant tiger beetle) to my running list of tiger beetle species seen on the trip, I’ll add this one as well as .

Amblycheila picolominii (plateau giant tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) right elytron on slope below gypsum/red siltstone escarpment.

Bitter Lake National Wildlife Refuge
Chaves County, New Mexico

I found another iNaturalist record of Cicindelidia nigrocoerulea (black sky tiger beetle) at this refuge, which is located just north of Bottomless Lakes. I didn’t find this species at the previous spot where I looked for it (as far as I know), and since the refuge is managed by the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service, I can only “look but don’t touch” (no collecting permit). Because of this, I decided to make today a “big camera” day instead of an “insect net” day.

Alkaline flats at Bitter Lake National Wildlife Refuge.

Tiger beetles were scarce on the dry alkaline flats where the record was taken (albeit, many years ago and in July) and limited to the über-common Eunota circumpicta johnsonii (Johnson’s tiger beetle) and Eunota togata globicollis (alkali tiger beetle). I’ve photographed both of these species already but attempted a few shots of each anyway to get some practice (photographing tiger beetles is challenging at best, requiring patience, persistence, and a willingness to get down on the ground no matter how dirty you will get). I found it difficult to approach either species (but especially the latter) in what was by then the heat-of-the-day, and the only shots I managed were of two individuals (one of each species)—engaged in shade-seeking behavior. I did find the mostly complete skeleton of what I take to be a common snapping turtle (Chelydra serpentina).

Common snapping turtle (Chelydra serpentina) skull along alkaline lake margin.

The margins of the oxbow lake on the other side of the parking lot were much wetter, and accordingly the tiger beetles were much more abundant there as well. In addition to the aforementioned E. c. johnsonii, which here also was by far the most abundant species, I observed Cicindelidia ocellata ocellata (ocellated tiger beetle)—common throughout the southwest, and Cicindelidia tenuisignata (thin-lined tiger beetle)—much less commonly encountered and a species I’d first seen during my previous trip to Bottomless Lakes in June. I managed to photograph a mating pair of E. c. johnsonii, but try as I might I was unable to photograph C. o. ocellata or C. tenuisignata—a rather deflating failure for someone who prides himself in his tiger beetle photography skills. For now, the iPhone photos that I took last time of individuals of the latter species attracted to ultraviolet light at night will have to do. There was a good amount of Isocoma pluriflora (southern goldenbush) still in good bloom around the parking lot, and I managed to photograph a fine male Crossidius suturalis suturalis on the flowers.

Palmer Lake Campground
Bottomless Lakes State Park
Chaves County, New Mexico

The day’s high heat not only made futile any further attempts to photograph tiger beetles at Bitter Lake, but gave me pause about going out for more collecting as soon as I returned to my campsite—I needed a bit of time to chill. Eventually, however, I worked up the motivation to strap on the pack and grab the net. I had earlier noticed a nice stand of Isocoma pluriflora (southern goldenweed)—a good host for Crossidius longhorned beetles—at the end of the campground road, and that became my first destination. It took a bit of time before I found C. s. suturalis on the flowers, but after working the stand for about an hour I had a nice handful.

Crossidius suturalis suturalis (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Isocoma pluriflora (southern goldenbush) in saltbush chaparral.

Many other insects were also visiting the flowers, most visibly a large Pepsis tarantula hawk (prob. P. grossa)—which I could not photograph—and numerous colorful blister beetles that I take to be Pyrota concinna—which I did photograph.

Pyrota concinna (a blister beetle—family Meloidae) on flowers of Isocoma pluriflora (southern goldenbush) in saltbush chaparral.

I next visited the small, slightly elevated picnic area next to the campground, where last time I had collected a small series of a nice, large buprestid, Gyascutus planicosta obliteratus, on Atriplex canescens (four-winged saltbush). I saw one yesterday at Presler Lake, and I hoped they might be still hanging around here as well, but no dice. I did, however, notice a small beetle clinging onto the foliage of Neltuma glandulosa (honey mesquite, formerly Prosopis glandulosa), which turned out to be a very late-occurring Acmaeodera mixta. I noticed that the temps were suddenly getting milder, signaling the onset of evening and reminding me to head back to camp since I wanted to drive to Mescalero Sands (about 40 miles away) for some evening/night collecting.

Mescalero Sands Recreation Area
Chaves County, New Mexico

There are two species of Prionus longhorned beetles endemic to the sand dunes of southeastern New Mexico and western Texas—P. arenarius, which occurs during spring and early summer, and P. spinipennis, which occurs during late summer and fall. I’ve collected the former twice—once several years ago here at this very spot, and again this year at Oasis State Park back in June. I’ve never collected P. spinipennis, however, and figured they should be out by now. I had brought with me a few prionic acid lures, to which the males are attracted (prionic acid is a main component of the pheromones that females of all Prionus species release to call mates), and I also hoped to find and photograph the sand dune subspecies of Cicindela formosa—i.e., C. f. rutilovirescens (which I found yesterday near Portales but did not photograph). Unfortunately, my arrival just 20 minutes before sunset precluded the latter possibility, so instead I hiked into the dunes a short distance to place the pheromone lures and enjoyed a spectacular sunset and moonrise, with the sky morphing from blue to orange before finally turning black.

Mescalero Sands at sunset.
A first-quarter moon rises above a flock of roosting vultures.
The sky morphs from blue to orange.
Sunset impression.

As soon as darkness fell, I began scanning the sand for anything crawling. Darkling beetles (family Tenebrionidae) appeared in numbers and diversity—my favorites, as always, being the weirdly-explanate Embaphion muricatum, which were as common as I’ve ever seen them.

Embaphion muricatum (family Tenebrionidae) in sand dunes at night.

A sand dune endemic Jerusalem cricket, Ammopelmatus mescaleroensis (Mescalero Jerusalem cricket), some of them being quite large, was also quite common.

Ammopelmatus mescaleroensis (Mescalero Jerusalem cricket—family Stenopelmatidae) in sand dune habitat at night.

About an hour after sunset, I finally saw one—a male P. spinipennis walking urgently across the sand in the general direction of the pheromone lure. I was glad my hunch had paid off and waited to see when the next male would arrive.

Prionus spinipennis (family Cerambycidae) attracted to prionic acid lure in sand dune habitat at night.

Sadly, I waited and waited—expectantly walking the dunes in the area around the vicinity of the lure looking for the next one, but it never came. Perhaps I am a bit on the early side of their adult activity period. Nevertheless, one is better than none, and it gives me a reason to look forward to returning to the dunes some other time during the heart of the fall season. After an hour had passed with no other individuals seen, I called it a night and drove back to my camp at Bottomless Lakes, where the pre-dawn sky was a star-studded as I’ve ever seen!

Orion rises in the moonless, early morning sky.

Day 5

7 mi E of Queen, X Bar Rd
Eddy County, New Mexico

My original plan was to leave today and spend the next two days at Dog Canyon Campground in Guadalupe Mountains National Park just across the Texas state line. That would serve as a base from where I could service the traps that I have on the New Mexico side of the line and also afford me an opportunity to take a day off of collecting and hike the park’s spectacular system of trails. Unfortunately, when I went online a few days earlier to reserve my campsite, I learned that the campground was closed until December due to a water line break! This was a major disruption to my plans, because the only other campgrounds between Bottomless Lakes and Dog Canyon are private KOA-types (ugh!) and the dreadfully ugly Brantley Lake State Park! I decided then to keep my campsite at Bottomless Lakes and just drive to the Guadalupes to service my traps. Afterwards I would drive back and spend an extra night in the far roomier and more beautiful campground at Bottomless Lakes. Again, I was pleased to see the SRW trap hanging and intact, although the reservoir had developed a slow leak and was nearly drained. The catch, however, was still moist, suggesting that the leak had developed only recently and, thus, had no negative impact on data collection. The catch was similar to “San Jon Hill” in that there were numerous Enaphalodes hispicornis and smaller numbers of E. atomarius, Eburia haldemani, and a variety of smaller elaphidiines. Sadly, the SRW/EtOH trap had self-destructed—the bottom half of the trap was found lying on the ground not far from its still-hanging upper half (w/ bait even in the still-hanging bait bottle). The EtOH trap was also hanging and intact, though the bait bottle was dry (I’m seeing this pattern repeatedly—SRW and SRW/EtOH bait bottles still have some bait after 10 weeks in the field, but EtOH bait bottles are dry); however, there were only a few small elaphidiines representing the cerambycids. The white bottle trap had a decent catch of Acmaeodera spp. and bees (for Mike). However, there wasn’t much else going on insect-wise (the chunky, remarkably rock-like nymph of Leprus sp.—either L. intermedius [Saussure’s bluewinged grasshopper] or L. wheelerii [Wheeler’s bluewinged grasshopper]—notwithstanding).

Leprus sp. (bluewinged grasshopper—family Acrididae) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.

The lack of insect activity had me ready to leave as soon as I finished retrieving the traps. However, as I was emptying the last jug trap, I noticed that Dasylirion leiophyllum (smooth sotol) was growing in the area and decided I should check them for Thrincopyge buprestids—colorful species that breed in the newly senesced flowering stalks of the plants. I checked a few without success and suspected it was probably too late in the season to find the adults, then broke an old flowering stalk off of one of the plants and saw the characteristic adult emergence holes of the beetles in the lower part of the stalk. This at least confirmed their presence in the area. Then I saw a plant with a newly senescing flowering stalk. Cutting into the lower portion of the stalk revealed a fresh, frass-packed larval gallery, suggesting larvae are currently working inside the stalk, so I broke the stalk from the plant, carried it back to the car, and cut/bundled it up for transport back home and placement in a rearing box. With luck, the larvae will complete their development to adulthood and emerge next spring.

5.6 mi E of Queen
Eddy County, New Mexico

On my last visit to the area, I found Cicindelidia laetipennis (polished-winged tiger beetle, formerly C. politula petrophila) just over the Texas state line at high elevations in Guadalupe Mountains National Park. I was hoping to see (and properly photograph) it again this time, but the closure of Dog Canyon Campground nixed those plans. Fortunately, I found an iNat record for the species on the New Mexico side of the line (in fact, less than two miles from my previous trapping spot) and made plans to see if I not only could find it but photograph it with the “big camera.” As it turned out, the habitat was perfect—a wash of exposed limestone on a short 2-track above 5000’ elevation.

Exposed limestone habitat for Cicindelidia laetipennis (polished-winged tiger beetle) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Portulaca pilosa (shaggy portulaca—family Portulacaceae) in exposed limestone juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.

For the majority of the time I was there, however, I didn’t see any individuals. I did find the occasional Acmaeodera rubronotata on flowers of Eriogonum hieraciifolium (hawkweed buckwheat) and a lumbering Tenebrionidae that I take to be Philolithus aeger crawling on the clay portion of the 2-track.

Eriogonum hieraciifolium (hawkweed buckwheat—family Polygonaceae) in limestone/clay juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Philolithus aeger (family Tenebrionidae) on limestone/clay 2-track in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.

On the way back, however, I saw the first individual, and not too long afterwards I saw the second. These would be the only individuals I would see—not nearly enough to get my camera gear and hike back in an effort to get proper field photos. Once again, my previous iPhone photos will have to do for now.

Cicindelidia laetipennis (polished-winged tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) on exposed limestone juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.

Back at the car I was about to pack up and move on to my next trap location when I noticed Grindelia nuda (curlycup gumweed) in bloom around the parking area. Since I’d collected a small handful of A. rubronotata on buckwheat flowers, I thought I might check out the gumweed flowers as well. Not only did I find several more individuals of that species, I also found one individual of A. opacula (formerly A. disjuncta).

Acmaeodera rubronotata (family Buprestidae) on flowers of Grindelia nuda (curlytop gumweed) along roadside in limestone/clay juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Acmaeodera opacula (family Buprestidae) on flowers of Grindelia nuda (curlytop gumweed) along roadside in limestone/clay juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.

Klondike Gap Rd, Hamm Vista
Lincoln National Forest
Eddy County, New Mexico

As with the season’s previous two visits to this spot, the area looked dry and flowerless. Such conditions rarely warrant making the effort to take a closer look at things, and I wanted to get back to Bottomless Lakes with enough daylight left to search for tiger beetles at an area in the park that I not checked before—Lea Lake Recreation Area. With this in mind, I set about retrieving the traps and was happy to see the SRW trap hanging and intact (this trap was down last time due to rope failure). Also, even after nearly three months, the reservoir was moist and the bait bottle still had bait. There were lots of cerambycids in the catch, including several Enaphalodes hispicornis, E. atomarius, Tragidion coquus, Eburia haldemani, and smaller elaphidiines. The SRW/EtOH trap also, thankfully, was still hanging and in much the same condition as the SRW trap, but I did note far fewer cerambycids. This also seems to be the trend that I have noticed over the last two seasons of comparing these baits (although I must await stats analysis to see how real this is). The EtOH trap was also hanging and intact with plenty of liquid in the reservoir, but the bait bottle was dry (same as other locations), and there were hardly any cerambycids (same as some, but not all, other locations). Sadly, the white bottle trap was completely missing—I even managed to find the exact hole where it was pulled from, but the trap itself was nowhere in sight. This was frustrating, because it was by far the best-performing bottle trap on my last visit. I hate to think that someone deliberately stole it, but the thought is hard to resist—animals (primarily raccoons) often pull traps to eat the catch, but they don’t take the trap with them.

Lea Lake Recreation Area
Bottomless Lakes State Park
Chaves County, New Mexico

I’d been wanting to look for tiger beetles around Lea Lake since I arrived and was planning on today being the day. Unfortunately, the extra time I spent at the previous spots beyond retrieving the traps (i.e., for cutting up the sotol stalk and looking for Cicindelidia laetipennis)—along with an unplanned but needed stop for supplies—resulted in me arriving only 20 minutes before sundown. There was a particular tiger beetle species I was looking for—Cicindelidia haemorrhagica woodgatei (Woodgate’s tiger beetle), of which several observations from here had been posted on iNat. The alkaline flats right alongside the lake looked perfect for tiger beetles, and I immediately began finding and collecting a variety of tiger beetle species.

Lea Lake.

Most were expected—Eunota circumpicta johnsonii (Johnson’s tiger beetle), E. togata globicollis (alkali tiger beetle), and Cicindelidia ocellata ocellata (ocellated tiger beetle). One individual, however, gave me pause—both when I first saw it and then when I pulled it from the net. At first glance it looked like the über-common and widespread Cicindelidia punctulata (punctured tiger beetle), but it didn’t seem quite right for the species, and its dark coloration contrasted with the greenish color exhibited by most individuals in this area (representing the western subspecies, C. p. chihuahuas, or Chihuahua tiger beetle). Then I noticed the rather rounded elytral sides and the generally dull elytral surface and immediately suspected that I had just collected my first Cicindelidia nigrocoerulea (black sky tiger beetle)—a goal for the trip and one that I had not succeeded in finding at three locations I had gleaned from iNaturalist and visited earlier! Closer examination of the photo and the specimen convinced me I was correct, so even though I did not find the species I was looking for, I still found another one that was a priority for the trip. [Edit: after some discussion, the consensus on iNaturalist is that this individual represents C. punctulata. Alex Harmon noted the elytra sides aren’t round enough for C. nigrocoerulea and that the texture is better for C. punctulata. He also noted that, for what it is worth, that C. nigrocoerulea are either blue, green, or black rather than brown as in this individual. After looking at my field guide upon my return back home, I am inclined to agree with him.]

Cicindelidia punctulata (punctured tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) on alkaline flats along lake margin.

With the sun setting rapidly and so many tiger beetles still around, I decided that I would delay my departure from the area in the morning and come back to Lea Lake—perhaps I will still find C. h. woodgatei after all!

Dusk on the alkaline flats adjacent to the lake.

Pasture Lake Campground
Bottomless Lakes State Park
Chaves County, New Mexico

Back at camp after cooking dinner (salmon—more on this), I decided to “night walk.” I hadn’t had a chance to do this the previous two nights because of reasons, and I wanted to take advantage of one last opportunity to look for Amblycheila picolominii (plateau giant tiger beetle), which I found on both of my previous visits here this year. The closest and easiest place to get to where I had found one was at the bottom of the steep, narrow ravine coming off the gypsum/red siltstone slopes just behind my campsite, so I headed there first. Within minutes after clambering down into the bottom of the ravine, I found one!

Amblycheila picolominii (plateau giant tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) in bottom of gypsum/red siltstone ravine at night.

Filled with optimism about finding more, I searched the remainder of the ravine bottom, but no more were seen. After emerging from the ravine back at the campsite, I sat at the table briefly to update my field notes before continuing to other areas. At one point I looked up, and there was another one right at my feet! I looked away briefly to grab a vial, and when I looked back it was gone—nowhere to be seen! I searched the entire campsite in a gradually enlarging spiral, but to no avail. I started questioning whether I had actually seen what I was sure I had seen—there are few places to hide anywhere in this very large campsite, and I could not understand how such a large and conspicuous beetle could completely evade me like that. That would ultimately prove to be the last individual “seen” during the entire evening. Nevertheless, during my spiral search I encountered an interesting situation at the “salmon oil pit” (I had rinsed the accumulated oils from the salmon before cooking it and dumped the wash into a small pit that I dug in the soil). There were two tiger beetles inside the pit—Tetracha carolina carolina (Carolina metallic tiger beetle) and Eunota circumpicta johnsonii (Johnson’s tiger beetle)—presumably scavenging on the tasty oils saturating the soil (tiger beetles are well known scavengers when the opportunity arises).

Tetracha carolina carolina (Carolina metallic tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) attracted to salmon oil on ground at base of gypsum/red siltstone slope at night.
Eunota circumpicta johnsonii (Johnson’s tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) attracted to salmon oil on ground at base of gypsum/red siltstone slope at night.

Also during my spiral search, I found several Cysteodemus wislizini (black bladder-bodied blister beetle), each perched on the foliage of Tribulus terrestris (puncture vine). I didn’t know if there was any significance to the association, but I found them on no other plant (the significance would be revealed the next morning). Lastly, I encountered several individuals of a tank-like species of Stenomorpha darkling beetle in the mesquite/saltbush chaparral next to the campsite. I am unsure of the species (the genus is super diverse), but I collected a few specimens and will eventually update their identity in the iNat observation that I posted.

Stenomorpha sp. (family Tenebrionidae) in gypsum/red siltstone mesquite chaparral at night.

I spent a fair bit of time walking the roads afterwards and even went to the picnic area on the other side of Pasture Lake Campground to see if I could find more A. picolominii, but as alluded to earlier that effort would prove futile. At the end of the fifth collecting episode for the day (interspersed with five hours of driving), I collapsed exhausted onto my cot with a few minutes to spare before midnight!


Day 6

As I was drinking my morning coffee and working on yesterday’s field notes, I noticed another Cysteodemus wislizini (black bladder-bodied blister beetle) on Tribulus terrestris (puncture vine) where I had collected a few on the same plants the night before. This one, however, was not only perched on the plant, but also consuming its flowers. I would see two more on the same plants during the course of the morning, so it seems there is at least an adult floral host association between the beetle and this plant.

Cysteodemus wislizeni (black bladder-bodied blister beetle—family Meloidae) feeding on flower of Tribulus terrestris (puncture vine) in mesquite/saltbush chaparral below gypsum/red siltstone slopes.

Lea Lake Recreation Area
Bottomless Lakes State Park
Chaves County, New Mexico

Before leaving the park, I wanted to spend some time looking for tiger beetles at Lea Lake. I’d gotten only a quick taste of the fauna there with yesterday’s 20-minutes-before-sunset visit, during which time I’d collected four species, including the new-for-me Cicindelidia nigrocoerulea (black sky tiger beetle), and I was hoping today to add a fifth—Cicindelidia haemorrhagica woodgatei (Woodgate’s tiger beetle) which has been reported here several times already. This time I started at the east end of the alkaline flats, seeing and collecting another C. nigrocoerulea as well as a few individuals each of the other three species I’d seen yesterday—Cicindelidia ocellata ocellata (ocellated tiger beetle), Eunota circumpicta johnsonii (Johnson’s tiger beetle), and Eunota togata globicollis (alkali tiger beetle)—on the alkaline flats along the lake margin. I noticed Isocoma pluriflora (southern goldenbush) at the far end of the flats and checked them for Crossidius suturalis, finding a handful of individuals on the flowers, before turning my attention back to tiger beetles and working my way towards the west side of the lake. I wanted to get proper field photographs of the species I had not yet done so (at least, with the “big camera”), which at that point were only C. nigrocoerulea and C. o. ocellata. I never did see another of the former, but the latter were common enough that I was able to “work” a few individuals before finding a (relatively) cooperative one. I hadn’t planned on collecting any more individuals of E. c. johnsonii, but then I encountered two beautifully sumptuous green individuals and couldn’t resist.

Eunota circumpicta johnsonii (Johnson’s tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) green form on alkaline flats along lake margin.

Shortly afterwards, I noticed several individuals of a species I’d not yet seen at that location—Cicindelidia tenuisignata (thin-lined tiger beetle)—in an area of the alkaline flats that was wet from lake water lapping over the edge. I was able to not only collect a handful of specimens, but also get decent photographs of one of them—making moot my inability yesterday to photograph this species and C. o. ocellata.

Cicindelidia tenuisignata (thin-lined tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) on alkaline flats along lake margin.

In the same area, I thought I’d collected a third C. nigrocoerulea, but it turned out to be the common Cicindelidia punctulata (punctured tiger beetle) with which it can be confused. Interestingly, it was dark-colored (as in the eastern subspecies—C. p. punctulata), not green (as in the western subspecies—C. p. chihuahuae). In the end, the number of species seen around the lake increased to six, but—unfortunately for me—C. h. woodgatei was not one of them. By then I’d been at it for two hours, and the heat of the day (99°F) was upon me. Such temps are no good for trying to photograph tiger beetles, so I found some shelter to eat a bit of lunch and then started west towards my next set of traps at a high elevation site near Cloudcroft.

Escaping the heat during lunch.

Switchback Trailhead
Lincoln National Forest
Otero County, New Mexico

I always enjoy the drive from Roswell to Cloudcroft—searing desert heat yields to cool mountain air, and the landscape morphs from a flat, featureless, heavily-populated (and, thus, littered) plain, to sweeping, undulating hills of juniper chaparral, to foothills of oak woodland, and finally to bonafide mountains with dense forests of stately pines and firs.

Prime property south of Roswell.

Poetically, I was greeted at the higher elevations by not only cool air, but rain (I think it has done this on every trip I’ve made in this direction). The rain was nothing more than sprinkles, though with a brief 1–2-minute windshield-cleaning episode. By the time I reached my trap locality, clouds remained, but the rain had moved on. I picked this locality because of its ease of access to the precise habitat I wanted to sample—Gamble’s oak forest. When I first encountered the location in May (and again when I returned to service the traps in June), the area was deserted—just what I want in a trapping locality to minimize the chance of vandals finding and disturbing the traps. This time, however, I was horrified to find the area choked with vehicles and tents—the place was literally teeming with people. I got a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach about whether I would find my traps still hanging and intact, and these fears were confirmed when I approached the location of the SRW trap and found it was completely missing—not a shred of evidence that the trap had ever been there! This was really disappointing for obvious reasons, but, additionally, this was the trap that produced the most interesting catch of all traps at all locations on the previous visit. Fortunately, the SRW/EtOH trap was still hanging and intact with liquid in the reservoir and bait in the bottle. The catch was voluminous and appeared to consist largely of flies, yellowjackets, and butterflies; however, fingering through it I did find some interesting longhorned beetles: Tragidion coquus, Stictoleptura canadensis (a new addition to the list of species trapped), and the previously captured Stenocorus copei. This lifted my spirits a bit knowing that at least one trap had survived the human onslaught. The lift, however, was short lived when I approached the EtOH trap and found it lying on the ground—completely disassembled! I found most of the parts, but the nylon rope and carabiner used to hang the trap were gone—someone actually had to untie the rope at one end and unclip the carabiner at the other to take them. I really don’t understand the depravity of people that mess with other people’s stuff with no regard or remorse. Vandalizing traps not only wastes my time, effort, and expense, but in this case it also negatively impacts the integrity of the study I am conducting. It’s hard enough trying to anticipate and mitigate against weather, animals, equipment failure, and errors in deployment without also having to outfox the criminal element. I’ll have to consult with a statistician on the best way to analyze the trapping results while taking into account the loss of some trap events (i.e., unique trap/date combinations). On a positive note, the white bottle trap that I reset last time was still in place and had captured a nice quantity of both Acmaeodera and Anthaxia.

Hwy 70 at “Point of Sands”
Otero County, New Mexico

After checking the traps near Cloudcroft, my original plan was to camp at Upper Karr Canyon, a high elevation national forest campground south of Cloudcroft. However, seeing the zoo of campers at the trapping site, along with the throngs of people and cars I’d seen in town, suggested to me that any campground in the area was probably already filled to capacity on what I realized was a Saturday night of a holiday weekend (Monday is Mexican Independence Day). I noted that my next trapping location at Aguirre Springs Campground in the Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument was another 2-hour drive, but that I had plenty of time to make it there before dark—even if I stopped and collected along the way. Heading straight there wouldn’t solve the problem of finding an open campsite on a Saturday night, but at least the location was further removed from a town teeming with visitors. As for collecting along the way, I could think of no better spot than “Point of Sands”—a spot along U.S. Hwy 70 where the dunes of White Sands National Monument breach the fenceline and continuously spill out onto the highway. It’s a chance to get a quick taste of the dune flora and fauna without the need for permits, entry fees, etc. I stopped here also on both trips earlier this season, and while I didn’t find much out of the ordinary either time, I keep returning for two reasons—Acmaeodera recticollis and Sphaerobothris ulkei, two rather uncommon and desirable buprestid species that breed in Ephedra (jointfir). I collected a small series of the former here a couple of years ago, but my only evidence that the latter occurs here is a carcass I found lying on the ground a few years earlier. Someday, I will come to this spot at the right time and find adults of that species active on the Ephedra. Once again, however, that time would not be this time—despite the much more comfortable conditions than last time (when temps were 108°F), the only insect I saw worth putting into a bottle was the tank-like darkling beetle, Philolithus aeger, crawling on the white sand.

Philolithus aeger (family Tenebrionidae) on white sand at sand dune/saltbush chaparral interface.

I also had hopes of finding Crossidius longhorned beetles when I noted stands of Isocoma pluriflora (southern goldenbush) and Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed) in bloom—both of which are favored hosts for beetles in this genus. None were found, however—just blister beetles, so after completing the circuit up one side of the road and down the other, I continued the drive to Aguirre Springs.

Lytta biguttata (two-spotted blister beetle—family Meloidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed) in saltbush shrubland.

Aguirre Springs Campground
Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument
Doña Ana County, New Mexico

My fears about the campground being filled seemed realized as I entered the loop and saw site after site already occupied. Fortunately, on the backside of the loop I found a few unoccupied sites, one of which was quite nice—buffered from the view of the road and nearby sites by trees and shrubbery and with a nice level area for the tent. It felt good to be back in one of my favorite places, and another “dirty burger” dinner tasted quite good!

“Dirty burger” on the grill.

Afterward, I walked the loop to see if I could find any beetles (hoping for Amblycheila, of course), but the only thing I saw were the occasional Eleodes darkling beetle and the glowing eyes of spiders, including the always charismatic Geolycosa sp. (burrowing wolf spider).

Geolycosa sp. (burrowing wolf spider—family Lycodidae) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland at night.

Day 7

In the morning, I decided to relax a bit and work on my field notes while enjoying coffee and the views, then headed out to retrieve my traps.

The spectacularly jagged peaks of the Organ Mountains loom over oak woodlands below.

Yesterday’s poor trap fortune turned around completely when all three traps were found in place, intact, … and loaded with beetles! These included several species of elaphidiine longhorned beetles and a diversity of cetoniine scarabs. Two species of the latter group were Cotinis mutabilis (figeater beetle) and Gymnetina cretacea sunbbergi—both new for me! I don’t think the former is all that uncommon, but the latter apparently represents a recently-described subspecies that is endemic to the Organ Mountains.

Cotinis mutabilis (figeater beetle—family Scarabaeidae) in sweet red wine (SRW)-baited “jug trap” in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Gymnetina cretacea sundbergi (family Scarabaeidae) in sweet red wine (SRW)-baited “jug trap” in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.

The same pattern of fewer beetles in the EtOH trap was found here, although all three traps displayed greater total mass than their respective counterparts at other locations. After retrieved the EtOH trap, it hit me that I had just taken down the last trap at the last location in the final season of the 3-year study! There is still much work still to do—specimens to sort, prep, mount, and identify… data to assemble, crunch, and ponder… manuscripts to write, polish, submit, and revise… co-authors to correspond with and coordinate. However, with all that said, finishing the field work still feels like a major victory! At this point, I have no other place where I must go, so I am content to spend the rest of the trip exploring this beautiful area (this makes up for me not getting to spend a day hiking in Guadalupe Mountains National Park).

Ferocactus wislizeni (fishhook barrel cactus—family Cactaceae) flowers in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.

As I was retrieving the traps, I scanned the nice variety of plants in bloom for beetles and quickly encountered not only Crossidius pulchellus on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed), but also Acmaeodera opacula, A. amplicollis, and A. rubronotata on the same as well. These are all late-season, mid- to high-altitude species, and surely the floral associations are well known. However, i did find two potential new ones—A. amplicollis (observed) and A. rubronotata (collected) on flowers of Pectis papposa (chinchweed). I don’t recall encountering this plant in my review of literature on host associations of North American Buprestidae and will have to look into this when I return from the field.

Crossidius pulchellus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Acmaeodera amplicollis (family Buprestidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.
Acmaeodera rubronotata (family Buprestidae) on flowers of Pectis papposa (chinchweed) in juniper/oak/pinyon woodland.

On the way back to camp to drop off the traps and refuel, I saw a Euphoria verticalis crawling on the broken granite substrate.

Euphoria verticalis (family Scarabaeidae) crawling on ground in juniper/oak/pinyon chaparral.

I’d gotten iPhone images of three of the Gutierrezia-associates, but since I have some flex time I decided to grab the big camera and see what kind of real photos I could get. I walked to an area with blooming Gutierrezia much closer to my camp on the south side. I found several C. pulchellus, photographing a mating pair, but persistent searching beyond the area never turned up any of the buprestids. So I looped back through the campground and walked back to the ravine I’d visited earlier. There, back up and down the ravine, I photographed C. pulchellus, A. rubronotata, and A. amplicollis (I never saw another A. opacula beyond the first). I then tuned my attention to other subjects: a snout butterfly, a scoliid wasp, a few plants, and something for a future quiz. I was content with the day and strolled back to camp to rest and cook dinner (steak!).

Dusk settles over Aguirre Springs Campground.

After dinner (and a thrilling football game between my beloved Chiefs and rival Bengals!), I did my “night walk,” this time leaving the campground loop and walking along Aguirre Springs Rd a short distance before turning back. Again, I encountered Eleodes darkling beetles—this time congregating on the trunk of a very large juniper cadaver—and the siren call of a wolf spider’s glowing eyes luring me in for images. I managed a dorsal shot, but she skedaddled before I could fire off a frontal portrait. [Edit: discussion on iNaturalist suggests this is an undescribed species currently known as the “big-eyed” Hogna with its pale, ghost-like markings. It seems to be common in New Mexico.]

Hogna n. sp. (“big-eyed” wolf spider—family Lycosidae) wanders about the juniper/oak/pinyon woodland at night.

The waxing gibbous moon threw enough light on the majestic peaks above to make for one the most beautiful night skies you’ll ever see!

A waxing gibbous moons throws light on the nighttime mountain landscape.
A tiny lantern lights up a lone campsite.

Day 8

I didn’t sleep well—my stomach began rumbling in the middle of the night, and by the time I got up I had full-blown GI problems. I had wanted to go down to lower elevations before the temperatures got too high in hopes of finding late-season “hangers on” of larger southwestern buprestids in the genera Gyascutus and Lampetis, but it seemed prudent instead to take it easy during the morning and give myself a chance to feel better. This did seem to happen… eventually… or perhaps it was just the product of wishful thinking!

Morning at Aguirre Springs Campground.

Bar Canyon Trail
Organ Mountains-Desert Peaks National Monument
Doña Ana County, New Mexico

I went to a spot where late-season occurrences of Gyascutus, Lampetis, and Acmaeodera had been recorded on iNat.

Bar Canyon Trail ascends from Soledad Canyon Rd on the west slope of the Organ Mountains.

I got an early indication of good luck when I found Acmaeodera rubronotata and A. opacula on the flowers of Picradeniopsis absinthifolia (hairyseed bahia). I also found another Cotinis mutabilis (figeater beetle), this one on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae right around the parking lot.

Cotinis mutabilis (figeater beetle—family Scarabaeidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed) in mesquite/acacia thornscrub.

A bit further up the trail, I found two additional species—A. amplicollis and A. maculifera—also on P. absinthifolia, and further still along the trail I found more of the former.

Acmaeodera maculifera (family Buprestidae) on flower of Picradeniopsis absinthifolia (hairyseed bahia) in mesquite/acacia thornscrub.

Alongside the trail was a wash, where Fallugia paradoxa (Apache plum) was growing—checking the flowers was, for the most part, fruitless; however, I did find on them singletons of A. opacula and A. rubronotata. There were other plants in flower as well that seemed like they should be good beetle hostsnotably Gymnosperma glutinosum (gumhead), from which I collected a single A. rubronotata. Otherwise, however, there was little to be seen (except the occasional monstrous lubber grasshopper).

Brachystola magna (plains lubber grasshopper—family Romaleidae) in mesquite/acacia thornscrub.

I was happy to see the variety of Acmaeodera on P. absinthifolia flowers—especially A. maculifera, a species I had not seen for two decades(!), but my GI problems seemed to worsen as I felt increasingly weak and overheated. Less than one mile up the trail, I simply couldn’t continue further and turned back towards the car for—what I thought—was an end to the day’s activities.

North Fork Las Cruces Arroyo
Doña Ana County, New Mexico

After a quick stop in town to purchase symptom relief, I intended to go straight back to the campground and rest for the remainder of the day. Apparently unable to stick to a good plan, however, I decided to scan iNat one last time to see if there were interesting records of Buprestidae from nearby areas and saw that A. maculifera had been taken in a wash just a few miles away. I couldn’t resist the temptation to take one more look at one more spot before heading back up the mountain. Walking down into the wash felt like descending into a furnace! It was by then mid-afternoon, and even though I had rehydrated I still felt weak on the feet. The promise of beetles, however, continued singing its siren song, and I quickly found what proved to be Heterotheca zionensis (Zion false goldenaster) abundantly in bloom and looking like a perfect host for Acmaeodera.

Heterotheca zionensis (Zion false goldenaster—family Asteraceae) in xeric wash.

At first I found nothing, but with continued searching I found a spot where several Crossidius pulchellus and a single Acmaeodera scalaris were seen clinging to its flowers—the latter being another buprestid species for the trip (though, admittedly, a rather common species). I managed to finally find several A. maculifera on the flowers after additional searching (along with A. opacula), but I was declining rapidly and decided best to turn around. Passing near the spot where I had first found beetles, I found more A. maculifera (along with A. rubronotata) and lingered to better my series. This last little delay, however, proved to be too much for me, and for the first time ever I experienced “being sick” in the field! My body was sending me a message, and it was loud and clear (not that it wasn’t loud and clear before then!). I went back up the mountain and spent the rest of the day sleeping and resting in the cool mountain air back at camp.

The view from my campsite is simply breathtaking!

Day 9

My original plan for the day (depending on how I was feeling) was to break camp and start heading back to the northeast. With luck, I would make it to the Oklahoma panhandle with enough daylight to explore a few localities in Texas Co. that I hadn’t visited before. I did get a much better night’s sleep; however, I still felt weak and had to take my time breaking camp. This delayed my planned early morning departure a bit, and the need for frequent stops made a pre-evening arrival even less likely. In the end, it didn’t matter as rain moved through the area, bringing abruptly cool, cloudy conditions and wiping out any hope of any insect activity in the waning hours of the day. I did, however, get to see an oversized Texan as I sliced through the uppermost tip of that oversized state and was greeted by an ironically hypocritical welcome sign as I entered adjacent Oklahoma.

An oversized Texan!
An “unwelcoming” welcome sign. Do they even see the irony?

Day 10

3.2 mi SSW of Piqua
Woodson County, Kansas

I got another text yesterday from Dan Heffern, who told me that his brother had found several Megacyllene decora (amorpha borer) on Amorpha fruticosa near his home in eastern Kansas. I had already checked the nearby locality near Piqua (where he had seen this species many years ago) without success, but I reasoned that it may have been too early and that another look (now that the species is known to be out) was warranted. I was feeling better, but not great, and was, thus, glad to encounter relatively mild conditions when I arrived. On the very first clump of Amorpha that I checked, I found a big Megatibicen dorsatus (bush cicada) female sitting on its stem, …

Megatibicen dorsatus (bush cicada—family Cicadidae) female on stem of Amorpha fruticosa along margin of quarry.

…and shortly afterwards I found the left elytron of M. decora on the ground amidst Amorpha and flowering Solidago sp.

Megacyllene decora left elytron on ground amidst Amorpha fruticosa and flowering Solidago sp. along margin of quarry.

“What luck!”, I thought, and proceeded to inspect each Amorpha clump and flowering Solidago that I could find. Remarkably, my search for adults would prove fruitless, and for the second time on the trip I would have to walk away from the spot empty-handed. I was also starting to feel weak and overheated again after an hour of searching, suggesting that I was still not recovered and that perhaps I should focus on finishing the drive to St. Louis so I could recover in the comfort of my home—a rather inauspicious ending to what was, by all other measures, as fun and successful a collecting trip as I could ever hope for!

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2024

Baby box turtle on white

Box turtles of the genus Terrapene are extraordinarily common in Missouri, especially in the eastern and southern forested regions of the state where the three-toed box turtle (T. carolina triunguis)—Missouri’s state reptile—is the most commonly encountered form. Despite this abundance and the author’s more than a half-century spent scrabbling through the sticks of Missouri, I have never encountered a youngster as tiny as the one shown in this post (shell length about 2 inches). In fact, I didn’t even find it—my daughter rescued it from our dog, who had found it crossing the gravel driveway at our family’s cabin west of St. Louis. Such overwhelming cuteness demanded a photo session, and rather than deal with the active little hatchling’s persistent efforts to duck into the leaf litter I decided to photograph it on a clean, white background and arrange some of the photos in a “Naskreckian” collage. My daughter wanted to keep the little guy, but eventually she agreed that it would be better off released back into the forest. While it may lead a more perilous life in the forest, the opportunity to dine on fresh earthworms and strawberries should make up for it, and from these photos my daughter can always remember it for the little pup it once was.

Box-turtle-collage_1080x1407

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2014

BitB Top 10 of 2010

Welcome to the 3rd Annual BitB Top 10, where I pick my 10 (more or less) favorite photographs of the year.  My goal for 2010 was to continue the progress that I began the previous year in my quest to become a bona fide insect macrophotographer.  I’m not in the big leagues yet, but I have gotten more comfortable with using my equipment for in situ field photographs and am gaining a better understanding of lighting and the use of flash.  I also began experimenting with different lighting techniques (e.g. white box) and diffusers and am putting more effort into post-processing techniques to enhance the final appearance of my photographs.  I invite you to judge for yourself how successful I’ve been toward those goals by comparing the following selections with those from 2009 and 2008 – constructive feedback is always welcome:


Best Tiger Beetle

Cicindela denverensis - green claybank tiger beetle

From ID Challenge #1 (posted December 23).  With numerous species photographed during the year and several of these dramatic “face on” shots, this was a hard choice.  I chose this one because of the metallic colors, good focus throughout the face, and evenly blurred “halo” of hair in a relatively uncluttered background.


Best Jewel Beetle

Buprestis rufipes - red-legged buprestis

From Special Delivery (posted July 13).  I didn’t have that many jewel beetles photos to choose from, but this one would have risen to the top no matter how many others I had.  The use of a white box shows off the brilliant (and difficult-to-photograph) metallic colors well, and I like the animated look of the slightly cocked head.


Best Longhorned Beetle

Desmocerus palliatus - elderberry borer

From Desmocerus palliatus – elderberry borer (posted November 18).  I like the mix of colors in this photograph, and even though it’s a straight dorsal view from the top, the partial dark background adds depth to the photo to prevent it from looking “flat.”


Best “Other” Beetle

Enoclerus ichneumoneus - orange-banded checkered beetle

From Orange-banded checkered beetle (posted April 22).  The even gray background compliments the colors of the beetle and highlights its fuzziness.  It was achieved entirely by accident – the trunk of the large, downed hickory tree on which I found this beetle happened to be a couple of feet behind the twig on which it was resting.


Best Non-Beetle Insect

Euhagenia nebraskae - a clearwing moth

From Euhagena nebraskae… again (posted October 21).  I photographed this species once before, but those photos failed to capture the boldness of color and detail of the scales that can be seen in this photo.


Best “Posed” Insect

Lucanus elaphus - giant stag beetle

From North America’s largest stag beetle (posted December 30).  I’ve just started experimenting with photographing posed, preserved specimens, and in fact this male giant stag beetle represents only my second attempt.  It’s hard to imagine, however, a more perfect subject than this impressively stunning species.


Best Non-Insect Arthropod

Scolopendra heros - giant desert centipede

From North America’s largest centipede (posted September 7).  Centipedes are notoriously difficult to photograph due to their elongate, narrow form and highly active manner.  The use of a glass bowl and white box allowed me to capture this nicely composed image of North America’s most spectacular centipede species.


Best Wildflower

Hamamelis vernalis - Ozark witch hazel

From Friday Flower – Ozark Witch Hazel (posted March 26).  The bizarre form and striking contrast of colors with the dark background make this my favorite wildflower photograph for the year.


Best Non-Arthropod

Terrapene carolina triunguis - three-toed box turtle

From Eye of the Turtle (posted December 10).  I had a hard time deciding on this category, but the striking red eye in an otherwise elegantly simple photograph won me over.  It was also one of two BitB posts featured this past year on Freshly Pressed.


Best “Super Macro”

Phidippus apacheanus - a jumping spider

From Jeepers Creepers, where’d ya get those multilayered retinae? (posted October 5).  I’m not anywhere close to Thomas Shahan (yet!), but this super close-up of the diminutive and delightfully colored Phidippus apacheanus is my best jumping spider attempt to date.  A new diffuser system and increasing comfort with using the MP-E lens in the field at higher magnification levels should allow even better photos this coming season.


Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011

Eye of the Turtle

Adult male three-toed box turtle (Terrapene carolina triunguis).

Is there anything more lovable than the humble turtle?  As old as the dinosaurs, they stumbled onto a body plan that works and promptly dropped out of the evolutionary arms race.  Slow, plodding, and seemingly oblivious, they steadfastly cling to their quite, unhurried lives.  As the rest of the earth’s diversity of life races on, turtles go about their business much as they have done for more than 200 million years now.  They are survivors.

My friend Rich and I encountered this three-toed box turtle (Terrapene carolina triunguis) during our hike of the lower North Fork Section of the Ozark Trail in extreme southern Missouri.  Three-toed box turtles are one of four U.S. subspecies of the eastern box turtle, occupying the area west of the Mississippi River from Missouri and Kansas south to Texas and distinguished by their largely unpatterned shell and – yes, three toes on the hind legs rather than four.  I walked right by this guy the first time without noticing him, and only when I turned around to go back and look at something else did I see him sitting there – neck fully extended.  Box turtles exhibit considerable variability in color and patterns on the head and neck, and this particular individual is one of the more conspicuously colored that I’ve seen.

And the eye – as red an eye as I’ve ever seen!  Almost surely a male, as females may have some red in the eye but rarely to such a spectacular degree.  Also likely full-grown based on his rather large size, though probably not too advanced in age yet since the growth rings were still easily visible (in older turtles the growth rings gradually wear smooth).  I estimated it at about 12 years based on ring counts – still a far cry from the 30-50 years that are not uncommonly documented.  He kept a watchful eye on me as I studied him, and I wondered about what his future held.  As an adult, he has settled into a small home range from which he rarely ventures – likely visible to me in its entirety from where I stood.  For the next several decades, he will amble across this single hillside on an endless quest for earthworms, strawberries, and mushrooms.  Save for a possible run-in or two with a destined-to-be-frustrated coyote, fox, or racoon, it will be a largely uneventful life.  He is a survivor.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2010

The Inexorable March of Spring!

Granted, the progress of spring seems to advance in halting baby steps with occasional falls onto its muddy bottom, rather than as a determined forward march, but spring is welcome, no matter how it arrives. When little green tips start poking up and there’s a bit of that “spring smell” in the air, I simply must get out and catch up on the status of Nature — the old-fashioned way (she doesn’t have a Facebook account). Over the last week, I’ve gone forth in search of signs that everything else living is about as tired of winter as I am, and wants to get this spring show on the road! There is already so much happening, I can’t recount it all here — A partial list of unphotographed notables: owls breeding; hawks nesting; woodcocks doing their silly, repetitive and almost invisible (because it’s nearly dark) courtship displays; wood ducks on forest ponds; year-round resident songbirds reestablishing territories; spring peepers, chorus frogs, wood frogs and southern leopard frogs singing, especially in the fishless ponds; winter crane flies and midges swarming in sun flecks in the woods; wild filberts, silver and red maples flowering, etc…

Formica pallidefulva sniffs the spring air


Of course, I look for the first ants out at this time of year, though with the exception of 10 March, when the temperature exceeded 70F, they haven’t been notably active. However, that afternoon I encountered, among others, a worker of Formica pallidefulva poking its head out cautiously to sniff the spring air. This is one of my favorite local ants — largish (5-6mm), abundant, active in daylight even when it’s hot, usually shiny bronzy red to red-brown, usually with a darker gaster (the apparent abdomen of ants) around here, but ranging from a beautiful reddish gold (in the deep South) to almost pure black-coffee brown (New England and southern Canada) across its wide geographic occurrence (Rocky Mountain foothills of Wyoming to New Mexico, all the way east to Québec and Florida). It has the added charm of being the host species to a wide range of social-parasitic and dulotic (“slave-making”) ants both in its own and in another closely related genus, with which it lives in temporary or permanent mixed colonies (as with the Polyergus illustrated in my last post). The image below of these ants bringing home a charred earthworm was taken almost one year ago, as one of Shaw Nature Reserve’s prairie areas was beginning to resprout after a prescribed burn a few weeks earlier. Ants will take their food raw or cooked!

Formica pallidefulva with charred earthworm


Prenolepis imparis alate in the clutches of a gerrid

Another ant I mentioned last time I was with you, Prenolepis imparis, has the distinction of being the only ant in our fauna that has mating flights while there is still a good chance of frost in the forecast for the next few weeks. In this picture of a mating pair at  BugGuide, note the size difference that inspires their name “imparis”, Latin for disparate. Any time after mid-February when it is sunny and not too windy, and the temperature rises above 65F, the winged males and females reared the preceeding fall, fly out to partake of a grand insectan orgy. Typically, they have big flights on the first couple of appropriately warm days, then some smaller ones (i.e., fewer individuals participating) over the next few weeks. The flying males look like gnats, bobbing up and down in drifting swarms, a few feet off the ground over a shrub, near a woodland edge or in a sunny opening. (One of my co-workers got into the midst of a group of such swarms once when we were conducting a prescribed burn in a wooded area, and I recall her commenting she “felt like Pigpen with all the little bugs flying around”!) The much larger, golden-brown females lift slowly off the ground, fly ploddingly (or is it seductively?) through the male swarms, are there mobbed by the tiny fellows, and then glide away and slightly downward, mating in flight with the winner of the males’ tussling. Rather clumsy fliers, the females do not always land in a good spot, as occurred to this hapless one that ended up as a feast for a water strider. Those that survive break off their wings, dig a burrow, seal themselves in, and raise a small brood of workers on food produced in their own bodies (like say, milk in mammals or “cropmilk” in doves and some other birds.)

But lest you to think I only have eyes for ants, I feel indeed fortunate to have encountered a tarantula this week, of the same species as Ted recently posted and I didn’t even have to go to Oklahoma for it. This bedraggled individual was at the mouth of its completely flooded burrow in what is most often a very dry habitat — a dolomite glade. Stunned and muddy at the time, my guess is this creature, belonging to a resilient and ancient lineage, will dry off, clean up, and saunter away as soon as she warms up.

Aphonopelma hentzi in flooded burrow


And speaking of emerging from flooded burrows, how about this handsome fellow, a male three-toed box turtle, his sex revealed by his bright orange and red markings, coming up for a breather? In truth, it was perhaps only just warm enough to make him need air, but not really enough so for him to be up and about, so he just sat there, nearly immobile, looking pretty, notwithstanding mud and leaves glued onto his shell.

Male box turtle emerges


Copyright © James C. Trager 2010

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Glades of Jefferson County

We stood a moment to contemplate the sublime and beautiful scene before us, which was such an assembly of rocks and water—of hill and valley—of verdant woods and naked peaks—of native fertility and barren magnificence… – Henry Rowe Schoolcraft, 1818-1819

In the Ozark Border south of St. Louis, a series of natural openings punctuate the dry, rocky forests of Jefferson County. Commonly called “glades” or “cedar glades,” these islands of prairie in a sea of forest are home to plants and animals more commonly associated with the Great Plains region further to the west. Extending in a narrow arc from central Jefferson County east and south into northern Ste. Genevieve County, these glades occur most commonly on south and southwest-facing slopes below forested ridges and are characterized by thin soils and exposed dolomite bedrock of Ordovician age. Glades are, in fact, a common natural feature throughout much of the Ozark Highlands, an extraordinary plateau where the great eastern deciduous forest begins to yield to the western grasslands. A much more extensive system of dolomite glades occurs in the White River Hills of southwest Missouri, where they often extend up steep slopes and over the tops of knobs to form what Schoolcraft called “naked peaks” and are now called “balds” (and spawning the “Baldknobbers” of Branson fame). Additional glade complexes occur throughout the Ozark Highlands on different rock substrates – igneous glades abound in the St. Francois Mountains, sandstone glades dot the Lamotte landscape in Ste. Genevieve County and the northern and western Ozarks, limestone glades can be found in the northern Ozarks near Danville and Lake of the Ozarks, and chert glades occur in extreme southwest Missouri. These different glade systems share a common feature – shallow soils where tree establishment is limited due to summer moisture stress. They differ vegetationally, however, due to differences in hydrology and soil chemistry as a result of their different substrates. Floristically, dolomite glades exhibit a high degree of diversity relative to other glade types.

The term “glade” is derived from the Old English “glad,” meaning a shining place – perhaps the early settlers found their open landscapes a welcome respite after emerging from the confining vastness of the eastern deciduous forest. Whatever the meaning, the glades of Jefferson County hold a special place in my heart, for I “grew up,” entomologically speaking, in those glades. As a young entomologist, fresh out of school, I spent many a day scrambling through the glades and surrounding woodlands. It was here where my interest in beetles, especially woodboring beetles, was born and later grew into a passion. For eight years I visited these glades often – attracted by the extraordinary diversity of insects living within the glades and congregating around its edges. My earliest buprestid and cerambycid papers contain numerous records from “Victoria Glades” and “Valley View Glades” – the two best-preserved examples of the glades that once occurred extensively throughout the area (more on this later). My visits to these glades ended in 1990 when I moved to California, and although I moved back to the St. Louis area in 1995, the focus of my beetle research has more often taken me to places outside of Missouri. It had, in fact, been some 10 years since my last visit to these glades until last week, when I was able to once again spend some time in them.

Ozark glades differ from the true cedar glades of the southeastern U.S. in that they are not a climax habitat – they depend upon periodic fires to prevent succession to forest. Some recent authors have suggested the term “xeric dolomite/limestone prairie” be used to distinguish the fire-dependent glades of the Ozarks from the edaphic climax cedar glades of the southeast (Baskin & Baskin 2000, Baskin et al. 2007). Fires have been largely suppressed throughout Missouri since European settlement, leading to encroachment upon the glades by eastern red-cedar (Juniperus virginiana). Pure stands of red-cedar have developed on many former glades, crowding out the herbaceous plants that depend upon full sun and leading to soil formation that supports further encroachment by additional woody plant species such as post oak (Quercus stellata), blackjack oak (Q. marilandica), flowering dogwood (Cornus florida), and fragrant sumac (Rhus aromatica) from the surrounding woodlands. Fire has returned to many of the Ozark glades situated on lands owned or managed by state and federal agencies such as the Missouri Department of Conservation, Missouri Department of Natural Resources, and U.S. Forest Service, as well as private conservation-minded organizations such as The Nature Conservancy. These agencies have begun adopting cedar removal and fire management techniques to bring back the pre-settlement look and diversity of the Ozark Glades. This is particularly true at Victoria Glades and Valley View Glades, the two largest and most pristine examples of the Jefferson County dolomite glade complex. Fires have been used to kill small red-cedars in the glades, as well as rejuvenate their herbaceous plant communities. Larger red-cedar trees are not killed outright by fire and must be removed by chainsaws. This above distant view of the TNC parcel at Victoria Glades shows many such burned red-cedars. The glades themselves are not the only habitat to benefit from this aggressive management – when I was doing my fieldwork here in the 1980’s the surrounding woodlands were a closed post oak forest bordered by fragrant sumac and with little or no understory in the interior. The photo at right now shows an open savanna with a rich understory of not only sumac and other shrubs, but also many herbaceous plants as well such as black-eyed susan (Rudbeckia hirta) and American feverfew (Parthenium integrifolium). Such open woodland more closely resembles what Schoolcraft saw across much of the Ozarks during his journey almost two centuries ago.

Victoria and Valley View Glades are dominated by little bluestem (Schizachyrium scoparium), Indian grass (Sorghastrum nutans), big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii) and prairie dropseed (Sporobolus heterolepis). A smaller but highly charismatic non-grass flora is also found on the glades – species such as Missouri evening primrose (Oenethera macrocarpa) (left), pale purple coneflower (Echinacea simulata) (pictured above and below), and prairie dock (Silphium terebinthinaceum) not only add beautiful color but also support both vertebrate and invertebrate wildlife. The Fremont’s leather flower (Clematis fremontii) is a true endemic, occurring only in this part of Missouri and entirely dependent upon these glades for its survival. Less well studied is the vast insect fauna associated with the glades. It is here where I first discovered the occurrence of Acmaeodera neglecta in Missouri. This small jewel beetle is similar to the broadly occurring A. tubulus but at the time was known only from Texas and surrounding states. In collecting what I thought were adults of A. tubulus on various flowers in the glades, I noticed that some of them were less shining, more strongly punctate, and exhibited elytral patterning that was often coalesced into longitudinal “C-shaped” markings rather than the scattered small spots typical of A. tubulus. These proved to be A. neglecta, which I have since found on many glade habitats throughout the Ozark Highlands. Both species can be seen in this photo feeding on a flower of hairy wild petunia (Ruellia humilis) – the lower individual is A. neglecta, while the upper individual and two inside the flower are A. tubulus. Another interesting insect-plant association I discovered at these glades was the strikingly beautiful Dicerca pugionata – another species of jewel beetle – and its host plant ninebark (Physocarpus opulifolius). Only a single Missouri occurrence had been reported for D. pugionata, despite the common occurrence of its host plant along rocky streams and rivers throughout the Ozark Highlands. This plant also grows at Victoria and Valley View Glades along the intermittent streams that drain the glades and in the moist toeslopes along the lower edges of the glades where water that has percolated through the rocks and down the slopes is forced to the surface by an impermeable layer of bedrock. Unlike the tall, robust, lush plants that can be found in more optimal streamside habitats with good moisture availability, the ninebark plants of Victoria and Valley View Glades are small and scraggly, usually with some dieback that results from suboptimal growing conditions. I surmise these plants have reduced capabilities for fending off attacks by insects, including D. pugionata, and as a result a healthy population of the insect thrives at these glades. Some might be inclined to call this beetle a pest, threatening the health of one of the glade’s plants. In reality, the insect finds refuge in these glades – unable to effectively colonize the vast reserves of healthy plants that grow along streams throughout the rest of the Ozarks, it strikes a tenuous balance with plants that are themselves on the edge of survival.

Despite the success in moving Victoria and Valley View Glades closer to their pre-settlement character, the integrity of these areas continues to be challenged. Poachers take anything of real or perceived value, and ATV enthusiasts view the open spaces as nothing more than tarmac. Pale purple coneflower occurs abundantly on these Jefferson County glades (but sparingly in other habitats – primarily rocky roadsides), where they provide a stunning floral display during June and sustain innumerable insect pollinators. Plants in the genus Echinacea also have perceived medicinal value, as herbalists believe their roots contain an effective blood purifier and antibiotic. There are no conclusive human clinical trials to date that fully substantiate this purported immune stimulating effect (McKeown 1999). Nevertheless, demand for herbal use has skyrocketed in recent decades, prompting widespread illegal harvesting of several coneflower species throughout their collective range across the Great Plains and Ozark Highlands. I witnessed massive removals of this plant from both Victoria and Valley View Glades during the 1980’s, but the pictures I took this year suggest that such illegal harvests have been suppressed and that the populations at both sites are recovering nicely.

The same cannot be said for the practice of rock flipping. This was a problem I witnessed back in the 1980’s, and I saw fresh evidence of its continued occurrence at both sites. The thin soils and sloping terrain leave successive layers of dolomite bedrock exposed, the edges of which shatter from repeated freeze-thaw cycles to create rows of loose, flat rocks along the bedrock strata. Lizards, snakes, tarantulas, and scorpions find refuge under these loose rocks, only to be ripped from their homes by flippers and transferred to a dark, cold terrarium to endure a slow, lingering death. As if poaching the glade’s fauna and watching them slowly die isn’t bad enough, the flippers add insult to injury by not even bothering to replace the rock in its original position after stealing its inhabitant, amounting to habitat destruction three times greater than the area of the rock itself. Firstly, the habitat under the rock is destroyed by sudden exposure of the diverse and formerly sheltered microfauna to deadly sunlight. Next, the habitat onto which the rock is flipped is also destroyed, as the plants growing there begin a slow, smothering death. Lastly, the upper surface of the rock, sometimes colonized by mosses and lichens that might have required decades or longer to grow, usually ends up against the ground – its white, sterile underside becoming the new upper surface. Rock flipper scars take years to heal, and nearly all of the flat, loose rocks seen in the more accessible areas of the glades exhibit scars of varying ages next to them. If a scar is fresh (first photo), I generally return to the rock to its original position – the former inhabitants cannot be brought back, but at least the original habitats are saved and can recover quickly. However, if a scar is too old (2nd photo) it is best to leave the rock in its new position – replacing it only prolongs the time required for recovery.

Even more damaging is ATV use. Herbaceous plants and thin soils are no match for the aggressive tread of ATV tires, and it doesn’t take too many passes over an area before the delicate plants are killed and loose soils ripped apart. I witnessed this become a big problem particularly on Victoria Glades during the 1980’s – actually finding myself once in a face-to-face confrontation with an ATV’er. Fortunately, he turned tail and ran, and it appears (for now) that such abuses have stopped, as I saw no evidence of more recent tracks during this visit. But the scars of those tracks laid down more than two decades ago still remain painfully visible. I expect several more decades will pass before they are healed completely.

My return to Victoria and Valley View Glades was a homecoming of sorts, and I was genuinely pleased to see the progress that has been made in managing these areas while revisiting the sites where my love affair with beetles was first kindled. Sadly, however, the larger glade complex of Jefferson County continues to deteriorate. Restoration acreage aside, red-cedar encroachment continues unabated on many of the remaining glade parcels – large and small – that dot the south and southwest facing slopes in this area. It has been conservatively estimated that as much as 70% of the original high quality glades in Missouri are now covered in red-cedar. Many of these are privately held – their owners either do not recognize their ecological significance or are loathe to set fire to them. An example can be seen in the picture here – this small parcel is part of the Victoria Glades complex but lies on private land in red-cedar choked contrast to the Nature Conservancy parcel immediately to the south. Small numbers of herbaceous plants persist here, but without intervention by fire or chainsaw their numbers will continue to dwindle and the glade will die. Aside from the loss of these glades, the continuing reduction of glade habitat complicates management options for preserved glades as well. Many glade associated invertebrates are “fire-sensitive” – i.e., they overwinter in the duff and leaf litter above the soil and are thus vulnerable to spring or fall fires. While these fires are profoundly useful for invigorating the herbaceous flora, they can lead to local extirpation of fire-sensitive invertebrate species within the burn area. Recolonization normally occurs quickly from unburned glades in proximity to the burned areas but can be hampered if source habitat exists as small, highly-fragmented remnants separated by extensive tracts of hostile environment. Grazing also continues to threaten existing remnants in the Jefferson County complex. Grazing rates are higher now than ever before, with greater negative impact due to the use of fencing that prevents grazers from moving to “greener pastures”. Over-grazing eliminates native vegetation through constant depletion of nutrient reserves and disturbance of the delicate soil structure, leading to invasion and establishment of undesirable plant species. Eventually, the glade becomes unproductive for pasture and is abandoned – coupled with fire suppression this leads to rapid woody encroachment. It is truly depressing to drive through Jefferson County and recognize these cedar-choked glades for what they were, able to do nothing but watch in dismay as yet another aspect of Missouri’s natural heritage gradually disappears. The continued loss of these remnant glades makes careful use of fire management on Victoria and Valley View Glades all the more critical – ensuring that a patchwork of unburned, lightly burned, and more heavily burned areas exists at a given time will be critical for preventing invertebrate extirpations within these managed areas.

I close by sharing with you a few more of the many photographs I took during this visit – stiff tickseed (Coreopsis palmata), three-toed box turtle (Terrapene carolina triunguis), climbing milkweed (Matelea decipiens – see the excellent post about this plant on Ozark Highlands of Missouri), downy phlox (Phlox pilosa), green milkweed (Asclepias viridiflora), and a “deerly” departed native browser.

Saving turtles, one by one…

“You should be able to push him from behind,” said the other motorist, who had also seen the young snapping turtle sitting in the middle of the exressway right after I did and pulled up as I was taking some “pre-rescue” pictures. “Nyeah, I think I’ll go ahead and get something to push him with anyway,” I said, hoping that the tone of my voice did not betray my true thoughts, “What, are you crazy? I’m not putting my bare fingers or sandal-clad feet anywhere near that thing!” I’ve rescued plenty of snappers over the years, and I know first hand just how surprisingly quick they can be. Truth be told, snapping turtles can be safely moved by hand – apparently they cannot reach the back of or underneath their shell. However, it takes considerably more temerity than I possess to actually try this. I grabbed a bicycle pump from the back of the truck and hooked the base of it under its shell. Immediately, the young turtle snapped at the pump – startling the man as well as two other cyclists who had stopped to watch the goings on. I admit to feeling more than a little vindicated as they all stepped back a few steps. I was hoping the turtle would maintain his grip on the pump so I could just carry him over to the roadbank, but every time I tried to lift he let go. So I had to just keep hooking the pump under his shell and pulling him towards the side of the road – the turtle fought every bit of the way, hissing and snapping and clawing against the road. At last he was in the grass – it was then an easy matter to roll him over a few times down the bank and safely (for now) away from the road.

Road mortality is suspected to have contributed to widespread population declines in turtles across the United States. This seems especially true for freshwater aquatic species, which often make land migrations for breeding. Vehicles often do not stop for turtles in the road, and I have seen some (usually a pickup truck with very large tires) swerve deliberately in an attempt to hit them (or even more sadistically, “shoot” them across the roadway). Conincident with these declines has been a demographic change towards male-biased populations in many freshwater species. Adult female freshwater turtles make nesting migrations that males do not and are often attracted to road shoulders and embankments as nesting habitat, making them disproportionately more vulnerable to road mortality. The resulting male-biasing surely represents an additional risk factor to their populations, especially in areas where high traffic occurs in proximity to wetlands. In such places, mitigation measures such as barriers and wildlife underpasses are clearly warranted (Steen et al. 2006).

I’ve always been a little awed by snappers – so grizzled and ancient, almost dinosaurian, and while I doubt that my sporadic rescues have near as much impact as barriers or underpasses, I do know that they cannot possibly hurt. As for this turtle, whether it continued on its way or turned around and crawled back onto the road (due to my unwittingly placing it on the side from which it just came) will remain unknown. I was heartened to see that I wasn’t the only person who stopped, intent on saving this grotesquely beautiful creature. But as I scanned this miles-long stretch of very recently constructed roadway, which now enables St. Louis countians to rapidly zip along next to newly created wetlands in the Missouri River bottoms while avoiding the stop-and-go on I-270, I couldn’t help but wonder why barriers and underpasses, seemingly simple protective measures, weren’t also included on the final blueprints of the roadway before they were sent to the printers. If such had been done, then I would not have had this encounter. But I could’ve lived with that.