This—the 18th “Collecting Trip iReport”—covers the second of two insect collecting trips to the southwestern U.S. this season—this first one occurring from June 4–13, during which I placed “bottle traps” and “jug traps” at several locations, and this one from September 3–14 to retrieve the traps and take advantage of any late-season collecting opportunities. I was fortunate on this trip to have longtime collecting buddy and melittologist Mike Arduser joining me, during which we visited the same 15 localities that I visited on my precious trip back in June (one in northwestern Oklahoma, six in northern Arizona, six in southern Utah, and two in southern Nevada) plus two additional localities (one each in northwestern Oklahoma and northeastern New Mexico).
I’m on my way out west with fellow collector Mike—today being only a travel day but with a quick stop in Texas Co., Oklahoma to retrieve bottle traps set back in June and then a night of camping at Black Mesa State Park before continuing the drive west tomorrow. After 7 hours, we needed to stretch our legs and stopped at Salt Plain National Wildlife Refuge’s Sandpiper Trail—a spot we both have visited several times and know well. Recent rains had the alkaline flats filled with more water than I’ve seen during any previous visit, …
Salt Plain National Wildlife Refuge, Alfalfa Co., Oklahoma.
… and only a few Ellipsoptera nevadica knausi (Knaus’ tiger beetle) and Eunota circumpicta johnsoni (Johnson’s tiger beetle) were seen on the drier margins of the alkaline flats. Several Epicauta conferta (red-cornered blister beetle) were seen lumbering across the path, and a Diogmites angustipennis (prairie robber fly) posed nicely on the trail for pictures as well.
Showy Eustoma russellianum (prairie gentian)—a plant I’ve never seen before—were blooming spectacularly and prolifically in the vegetated areas bordering the alkaline flats.
It was a quick but interesting stop that rejuvenated the legs before we continued our journey westward.
The first “real” stop of the trip was ~5 miles north of Goodwell in Texas Co., Oklahoma where I placed three white bottle traps in early June hoping to capture the very rare Acmaeodera robigo, which had been photographed here on flowers of Melampodium leucanthemum (blackfoot daisy) and the photos posted on BugGuide. I was never able to contact the photographer, but since bottle traps are so effective at sampling species of Acmaeodera I reasoned placing three traps here (one at the precise spot and two more several hundred yards to the north and to the south) would give me the best chance of collecting it. It had already been dark for an hour before we reached the spot, but despite the darkness and late hour I had no trouble finding each of three traps. I was happy to see all three traps still in place, undisturbed, and filled to the brim with insects. I tried to pick out the larger insects (mostly crickets and grasshoppers) and stir through the remaining contents of each trap a bit to see if I could detect any Acmaeodera, but the majority of insects appeared to be small blister beetles, followed by bees. The darkness made further sorting impossible, so I bagged the contents of each trap and saved for later sorting. [Edit: later sorting found only a couple of Acmaeodera mixta? in just one of the traps and no A. robigo.]
We arrived at our first overnight spot—Black Mesa State Park—quite late (~11:30 pm) and quickly setup camp before retiring for the evening. In the middle of the night I got up, came out of the tent, and was greeted by an incredible amazing starscape that is normally only seen during winter. Taurus was already high in the sky, and Orion was well above the horizon with a brightly shining Jupiter not too far to its left.
Night sky at Black Mesa State Park. Orion has risen, with Taurus above and Jupiter just rising in the lower left.
Day 2
In the morning, a canyon towhee (Melozone fusca) kept us company as we prepared breakfast and then broke camp for another mostly travel day
Canyon towhee (Melozone fusca).
Our destination this evening is Devils Canyon Campground near Monticello, Utah, to which we will travel by way of northeastern New Mexico and then southwestern Colorado.
Abandoned homestead outside of Clayton, New Mexico.
Shortly after crossing into Colorado we made a pit stop for ice and I began searching the pavement around the gas station looking for beetles that may have come into the previous night’s lights. I didn’t find any cerambycids but I did find a small tenebrionid beetle that didn’t look like familiar to me.
Crossing the Sangre de Cristo and then the San Juan ranges were as spectacular a mountain crossings as any that Colorado has to offer, and a coffee stop in Pagosa Springs (at Faire Society Cafe and Patisserie) provided not only good coffee and pastries to fuel me for the rest of the drive to Devils Canyon Campground near Monticello, Utah, but interesting and creatively framed art work to treat the eyes while waiting for our orders.
“Art wall” in Faire Society Cafe and Patisserie, Pagosa Springs, Colorado.
“Butterflies”—Faire Society Cafe and Patisserie, Pagosa Springs, Colorado.
“Gentleman Frog”—Faire Society Cafe and Patisserie, Pagosa Springs, Colorado.
“Cow”—Faire Society Cafe and Patisserie, Pagosa Springs, Colorado.
Weather during the drive had been good all day, but on the final approach to Devils Canyon Campground the skies began looking worryingly threatening. The last time I came here (early June) I had intended to camp here but got rained out and took a motel in town. I did not want a repeat of that, so we kept our fingers crossed and made the final drive to the campground. Although still threatening, it was not actually raining when we arrived (unlike last time), so we took our chances and set up camp. No sooner than that did the rain start! Fortunately, the tent was already up, so it just meant that instead of cooking dinner at the site, we would instead go to town and have dinner (Dave’s BBQ). When we got back to camp, the rain had stopped (although we could tell that it had rained hard), so I decided to walk the roads looking for night-active beetles. I knew this was probably a fruitless exercise—by then the post-rain temps at this 7000’ site were already down to the mid-50s, but it would give me a chance to stretch my legs after two straight days of driving, and I could also take that opportunity to retrieve the bottle and jug traps that I had set back in June. The bottle trap was disappointing, especially after seeing the ones I’d set near Goodwell, Oklahoma filled to the brim with insects—just a handful of bees (for Mike) and no beetles of any kind. This was surprising given the many Acmaeodera I have collected in alpine habitats just like this (Ponderosa pine and Gambel oak). The SRW-baited jug trap, on the other hand, was nicely (if not overwhelmingly) productive (Tragosoma sp., Enaphalodes sp., small elaphidiines, small acanthocine with very long antennae, Xestoleptura?)—enough to make it worth the effort. I was also pleased to see that the jug trap was in still place and intact with the catch in good shape despite three months in the field. The bait bottle was still about half full of red wine, but since the propylene glycol had dried the trap was no longer trapping insects. As I’d expected, no night-active insects were seen in the way to the traps or on the way back.
Day 3
It was a chilly morning, and though it had not rained since our arrival last night the skies remained overcast. The day’s plan was to continue west to the Ponderosa Grove Campground in southwestern Utah (north of Kanab), but with only five hours of driving required to get there we would have time to make a few stops along the way. Before leaving I started checking the Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush), several of which had begun blooming in the campground, and found a few Crossidius coralinus and Acmaeodera amabilis on the flowers. I was tempted to suggest staying put—at least for a short time—and exploring the area a little more fully, but my real objectives were further west and I elected to stick with the plan.
Crossidius coralinus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
Acmaeodera amabilis (family Buprestidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
One of the stops I’d made along this way last June was 4 miles east of Bluff in San Juan Co., Utah, where the famous Mont Cazier had collected what would later be described as Agrilus utahensis. I did not find it in June (nor did I fully expect to, since the record was from late July), and I was equally skeptical about my chances this time given how much later it was in the season. On the way here, we got caught behind an oversized load on the highway that was so big it required three highway patrol chaperone vehicles to clear the road ahead. Going at about half the speed limit, I worried we might have to follow it the entire way to our turnoff, which would nearly double our travel time to the first spot. Fortunately, the caravan pulled over at one point to let the long train of trsffic that had accumulated behind it pass, and we were on our way (the convoy would later pass us at the very spot where we had stopped to collect).
Oversized convoy!
The location was disappointing dry and crispy, although Gutierrezia sarothroides (broom snakeweed) was coming into bloom. Sweeping it eventually produced about a dozen Crossidius pulchellus and two other beetles (a clytrine leaf beetle and a weevil), and Mike collected a handsome series and diversity of bees off of flowering Eriogonum sp. (buckwheat).
Crossidius pulchellus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
Our drive afterwards through southeastern Utah and northeastern Arizona took us through some of the most amazing scenery that the American West has to offer—red sand/siltstones sculpted through the eons by wind and rain have created a landscape that can only be described as “planetary.”
Monument Valley, southeastern Utah.
Eventually, the dramatic landscape gave way to a more monotonous series of desert plateaus periodically interrupted by dramatic descents and canyons as we got deeper into north-central Arizona. Though pleasing to the eye, there were few signs of greenery of flowers to tempt the passing entomologist except occasional stands of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush) beginning to bloom in higher elevation spots. We kept our nose to the grindstone, hoping to see better things once we passed through Page and crossed back into south-central Utah, but the landscape became even crispier, with a stop about 20 miles northwest of Page to look for Nanularia brunnea on Eriogonum inflatum (which I had found two years ago in late June) being a total bust. We expected/hoped that the higher elevations around Ponderosa Grove Campground (~6000’) would provide better collecting and continued there without haste. Our expectations/hopes proved well-founded, as blooming rabbitbrush was seen with greater frequency as we traveled north of Kanab and even more so along Hancock Rd approaching the campground. We took a few moments to scout out a good campsite and setup camp before spending the rest of the available daylight hours exploring. For me the rabbitbrush was most tempting, and scouting plants in the campground and the vicinity east produced small but nice series of Crossidius coralinus and Typocerus balteatus. As I was doing so, a sinking sun and virga to the east produced an impressive rainbow that became irresistible for photography—not only as a subject itself but as a backdrop for the beetles I was finding.
Rainbow at Ponderosa Grove Campground.
Crossidius coralinus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
Typocerus balteatus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
After some downtime back at camp (and grilled sirloin steaks for dinner), I did my customary nighttime patrol to check for night-active insects. This campground was especially productive when I did this back in June and found several Zopherus utahensis and other tenebrionids on the trunks of the massive Ponderosa pines that are the namesake of this campground.
A near-full moon rises over our campsite at Ponderosa Grove Campground.
This time was no different—while I found only a single Z. utahensis, I did also find a few specimens of Coelocnemis sulcata, including a mating pair, on the trunks of the trees …
Coelocnemis sulcata (family Tenebrionidae) mating pair on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine) at night.
… and a single Embaphion sp. on the ground at the base of another. There are several massively-trunked Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper) in the campground as well, on which another C. sulcata was found. Despite this success and the relatively early hour, I was exhausted and called it quits for the night and retire. We will spend the entirety of the day here tomorrow, so I’ll have another chance to check the tree trunks again tomorrow night.
Day 4
After a relaxing morning at the campsite (during which time I caught up on my field notes while enjoying double-pour-through coffee), I walked over to the sand dune-adjacent woodlands to retrieve the traps that I’d set there back in June and brought them back to the campsite for sorting. I was happy to see Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush) and many other plants in bloom and looked forward to checking them more closely after servicing the trap catches.
Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush) blooming in sand dune habitat at Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area.
The yellow bottle trap had ~15-20 beetles, including several Acmaeodera spp., a lepturine cerambycid, and a tiny Dichelonyx-like scarab (a relief after getting skunked with the bottle trap I’d set in Devils Canyon). There were also a fair number of bees in the trap, which I gave to Mike. The SRW-baited jug trap also did well, containing Tragosoma sp., Enaphalodes sp., several Psyrassa sp., and another colorful little lepturine along with several Euphoria inda, several small clerids, a mantispid, and numerous small beetles I take to be oedemerids. After processing the trap catch, I went back over to the woodlands and dunes, spending more than three hours collecting off the flowers of E. nauseosa and other flowers.
Typocerus balteatus was found not uncommonly on the flowers in most of the areas that I covered, while Crossidius coralinus and C. suturalis were found a bit more sparingly.
Crossidius coralinus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
Crossidius suturalis (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
I also found Acmaeodera rubronotata on the flowers of Grindelia squarrosa (curlycup gumweed), Dieteria canescens (hoary tansyaster), and E. nauseosa, but they were limited to the woodlands and not seen in the dunes.
Acmaeodera rubronotata (family Buprestidae) on flowers of Dieteria canescens (hoary tansyaster).
I also found several individuals of an interesting little weevil on the rabbitbrush flowers, its gray/black longitudinally striped body making a good subject for photography (for which I also brought back a live A. rubronotata and a mating pair of ambush bugs), and spent a bit of time photographing some of the other blooming plants in the area.
By the time I feel like I’d gotten a good enough look at the area, nearly four hours had gone by and I was famished. Sardines and Triscuits did the trick, after which we did a quick ice run into town and back—the highlights being an authentic Sinclair dinosaur (he’s smiling!) and an real (though non-functioning) pay phone.
The famous “Sinclair dinosaur.”
He’s smiling!
An authentic (though non-functional) pay phone.
Returning to the campground, I walked with Mike back into the dunes to retrieve his bowl traps. I had hoped that some of them would pick up Acmaeodera (as is often the case with bowl traps and why I have started utilizing them on my own collecting trips), but the only species that would be out in this area at this time of season would be A. rubronotata, which I had already collected earlier in the day (there were none).
Mike services a “bowl trap.”
After a period relaxing (with a cold beer and burgers hot off the grill), I began my customary night walk. I have yet to find a cerambycid on tree trunks at night here, but still I enjoy night walks here as much as anywhere due to the consistent presence of ironclad beetles and other tenebrionoids on the trunks of the massive Ponderosa pine trees that give the campground its name.
Another near-full moon rises over the campsite.
Tonight would be no different—I found Zopherus uteanus on just the second tree that I examined (right in our campsite), and I would also find two species of tenebrionids in the vicinity on the trunks of ponderosas (Coelocnemis sulcata and Eleodes obscura sulcipennis) and a third species (ID unknown) on the ground at the base of one of them.
Zopherus uteanus (family Zopheridae) on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine) at night.
Coelocnemus sulcata (family Tenebrionidae) on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine) at night.
Eleodes obscura sulcipennis (family Tenebrionidae) on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine) at night.
At that point, I decided to go outside of the loop towards a couple of large P. ponderosa at the entrance, and on the way I found another E. obscura sulcipennis on the trunk of a massively old Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper). There was nothing on the P. ponderosa trees that I had targeted, but nearby was another large one, and high up on the trunk (as far as my fully extended net could reach) was another Z. uteanus, and several C. sulcata—including a mating pair—were found on the ground at its base.
At that point I decided to limit my tenebrionoid collecting to only Zopherus unless I saw species that I hadn’t seen before, so I passed by some additional tenebrionids of the same species as the previous on a large P. ponderosa in the RV loop, then saw a large, multi-branched Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) that I thought might be interesting to check. I did not find any beetles on it, but I did locate at eye level—with considerable difficulty!—a male Oecanthus californicus (western tree cricket). I was not only able to take a photograph of it with its wings fanned but also record an audio track up close (posted on iNaturalist).
Oecanthus californicus (western tree cricket—family Oecanthidae) male singing on trunk of Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) at night (song).
Returning to the tent loop, I checked all of the large P. ponderosa trees and junipers that had—during the past visit and last night—been so productive, but the only beetles I found was a very small tenebrionid that, fortunately, was yet another species I had not previously seen here (ID unknown). After two hours of searching tree trunks, I called an end to the night, which also meant a close to the collecting at this spot—tomorrow we will drive to Kyle Canyon in southern Nevada!
Day 5
Our exit from Ponderosa Grove took us through more of the spectacular canyonland that southern Utah is famous for and past the incredible Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park (so spectacular it is that I think it could—despite its small size—be a national park). A dramatic descent down into the Virgin River valley and the town of Hurricane was only the first such descent—the second one being even more dramatic as I-15 dropped off the edge of the Colorado Plateau along the Virgin River Gorge. The remainder of the drive to Kyle Canyon northwest of Las Vegas was mindnumbing in its contrast—an endless stretch of interstate highway through a vast expanse of low, hot, featureless desert punctuated at regular intervals by palm tree dotted oases, each with a gaudy, glittering casino at its center. Driving up Kyle Canyon Rd put an end to this, however, as each thousand foot gain in elevation brought with it an increasingly interesting landscape. At about 4500’ elevation, I had set a couple of bottle traps—one yellow, one blue—hoping to catch the recently described Acmaeodera raschkoi (whose namesake—Mike Raschko—I had happened to meet at Ponderosa Grove Campground last June a few days before I set the traps!). Mike R. had also placed a bottle trap (white) at the site and was kind enough to reset it for me so I would have three colors sampling the area. Both of my traps were still in place, intact, and filled with numerous Acmaeodera that I take to be A. quadrivittata (along with many bees for Mike A.) and the yellow also containing a larger species that I didn’t immediately recognize (not unusual since I have never collected this area). Unfortunately, I did not see any specimens that appeared to be A. raschkoi, and even more unfortunately the white bottle trap had been pulled from the ground (although I was able to recover a few A. quadrivittata that were still inside the trap). Not much else was going on at the site—only a few things in sparse bloom but no beetles visiting the flowers, nor was there any rabbitbrush around on which to look for Crossidius.
We got a scare when we arrived at the campground and saw a sign at the entrance saying “Campground Full.” This was bad—if this campground was full, then surely the much more heavily used one down below was also full, and I didn’t look forward to spending the rest of the afternoon scrambling for a campsite somewhere in the Spring Mountains. We drove through the campground anyway, and, in fact, there were many campsites available! Looks like somebody forgot to do their job!
“Campground Full” sign at a not-full Hilltop Campground above Kyle Canyon, Nevada.
Crisis averted, we selected a nice spot overlooking the desert below and set up camp. Cool evening temps come early at this high elevation (~8300’), so with the remaining afternoon hours I retrieved and sorted my SRW-baited jug trap, finding several Tragosoma sp. but, curiously, not a single other longhorned beetle (or any beetle for that matter). Searching around the area afterwards, I extracted a dead Dicerca tenebrosa partial carcass in its emergence hole in a stump of Pinus monophylla (single-leaf pinyon pine), then went back down to the area I had collected last time, focusing especially on the two large half-dead Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper) trees on which I had seen damage from the rarely collected Semanotus juniperi (on one of which I collected three adults later that night). There was nothing on the first (the one on which I found the beetles), but at the second one I saw a large wind-thrown branch that I had not noticed last time. It exhibited S. juniperi damage and emergence holes on the lower part, and chopping into it I quickly recovered a dead but intact carcass of yet another S. juniperi adult. Further chopping turned up nothing, and I was about to walk away when I thought maybe I should cut into the upper part of the branch as well to look for evidence smaller woodboring species. Doing so, I quickly encountered a Chrysobothris sp. larva, and with that I decided to bring the entire upper part of the branch back for rearing. There wasn’t much else going on—few plants were in flower and nothing was seen on the trunks of trees or various pieces of downed wood that were laying about, so I went back to camp.
Alpine pinyon/juniper woodland at Hilltop Campground above Kyle Canyon, Nevada.
An elevation of 8300’ affords spectacular views into the desert below.
Later in the evening, we watched a spectacular moonrise, then enjoyed “surf ‘n’ turf” (grilled sirloin steak and salmon) before I started up my customary night walk to check tree trunks for night-active beetles.
Angel Peak Radar Station at sunset.
“Corn Moon” rising.
Peeking through the trees.
Last time here when I did this, I found not only S. juniperi but also a few Zopherus uteanus, so I was hopeful for my chance tonight despite the lateness of the season. It started out well—on the first P. monophylla tree that I checked (right at our campsite), I found Oeme costata and a weevil.
Oeme costata (family Cerambycidae) on trunk of P. monophylla (single-leaf pinyon pine) at night.
Those would be the last live beetles I would see (other than an occasional tenebrionid beetle, none of which I collected). However, I would still find success—back at the J. osteosperma on which I had found three S. juniperi back in June, I found three more. They were not alive, however, but dead carcasses at the base of the tree—two nearly completely intact and the other partially so.
Western deer mouse (Peromyscus sonoriensis) at night.
Day 6
We had planned to visit few localities at middle and lower elevations but stopped to check out the profusely-blooming Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush) right outside the campground entrance for bees and beetles. Curiously, hardly anything was seen on the flowers despite the by then late-morning hour, sunny skies, and temps above 70°F. It seemed odd to me that there were no Crossidius beetles on the blooms, and the thought occurred to me that maybe the occurrence of E. nauseosa in the area itself could be a relatively recent phenomenon since it is only seen—albeit profusely—along the roads and highways in the area but nowhere further within the native habitats. With nothing going on, we pushed down to the lowest elevation point that caught our eye on the way in yesterday—the Step Ladder Trailhead at ~6700’.
Again, E. nauseosa was blooming profusely around the parking lot, but a quick perusal made it clear the situation would be similar here as well. Mike, on the other hand, was having good success collecting bees off of E. nauseosa and especially Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed), so I was content to stay and refocus by searching for infested wood. I noticed a lot of Quercus gambelii (Gambel oak) and quickly found one with a dead but still attached, fully-barked branch. I broke the branch off the tree, and there in the broken butt of the branch was a large chrysobothroid larvae! This quickly prompted a decision to collect the infested branch and put it up for rearing. A second larvae was found in a small dead (but still fully-barked) tree nearby, which was added to the bundle. While this was going on, Mike found what seemed to be Agrilus blandus? in his net while sweeping bees from the flowers of G. sarothrae. I recall collecting this species in southern California in flowers of Eriogonum (wild buckwheat), so finding it on other flowers—particularly if Eriogonum is in the area (but not seen because it was not blooming) did not seem out of the question. My much more thorough sweeping of the plants around the area where he found it, however, produced no additional specimens. I was also interrupted in my sweeping attempts by a couple of curious bystanders—one a woman from Ukraine who wondered what the plant was that I was sweeping (I told her “broom snakeweed”) and what it was good for (“brooms” I wryly replied and then quickly clarified its role in the ecosystem), and then offered me a beetle collecting tip by telling me about large beetles they call “bombers” and that bite people sitting in spas in Southern California (I presume these are diving beetles in the family Dytiscidae); and the other a young man who was pleased to hear I was from St. Louis because he used to live there when he was married to his ex-wife. This all happened while I was in the middle of my sweeps, so I held the net bag firmly to keep insects from escaping my net until I could resume my sweeping. Eventually, I gave up the ghost and resumed my search for dead, infested wood, eventually finding a Cercocarpus ledifolius (curl-leaf mountain mahogany) tree with one recently-dead and one older dead branch, the former buprestid-infested (verified by cutting into the wood and finding young buprestid larvae) and which I collected for rearing.
View of Fletcher Peak from Step Ladder Trailhead.
After lunch back at the campground and some time spent processing specimens (as well as enjoying the antics of our resident golden-mantled ground squirrel [Callospermophilus lateralis certus]), …
Mount Charleston golden-mantled ground squirrel (Callospermophilus lateralis certus).
… I wanted to check out the nearby Deer Creek Picnic Area where I’d seen a lot of iNaturalist observations (suggesting it might be an interesting place). At first all I saw was the massive parking lot below an equally massive road-cut slope—the only thing that looked like a trail was a steep drop down to the creek below. I checked it out, only to find it dead-ending at the creek and clambered back up.
A massive Ponderosa pine looms above.
Then I saw a gravel trail behind the guardrail on the opposite side of the highway and found it leading to a paved path up the creek. Much of the trail was covered with a deep layer of gravel from flooding (and indeed some of the picnic tables were also nearly completely buried). I hiked the trail as it ascended alongside the creek under massive ponderosa pines until it dead-ended at a gravel road and turned around. The only plants in flower was Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush), and it was only near the highway, and while I saw no insects that I wished to collect, I did see a large Adejeania vexatrix (orange bristle fly) that frustrated my attempts to photograph it until I finally “pre-set” the focus, exposure, and zoom and quickly fired off a few shots at the distance I’d set it for as soon as the fly landed. The virtual lack of insect activity here confirmed what we’ve been seeing in the area as a whole, so I’ll be anxious to leave tomorrow and head for (hopefully) greener pastures at Leeds Canyon back in southwest Utah.
Adejeania vexatrix (orange bristle fly—family Tachinidae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
Day 7
The drive from Kyle Canyon to Leeds Canyon was essentially a straight shot on I-15—normally a recipe for extreme boredom; however, coming back up through the Virgin River Gorge was a different, even more awe inspiring experience than the descent two days earlier. Ascending such a steep narrow canyon has the breathtakingly tall canyon bluffs looming high overhead, dwarfing the traffic, even the largest semi tractor trailers, snaking up below, whereas descending into a seemingly bottomless chasm feels a little more “dangerous.” We arrived at Leeds Canyon relatively early thanks to the “only” 3-hours drive. The area looked very dry, but a variety of blooming plants kept us optimistic as we made our way up the canyon road towards Oak Grove Campground at the top.
Leeds Canyon in southwestern Utah.
Sadly, optimism turned to dismay in an instant when we encountered a “Road Closed” sign about halfway up—a result of the ongoing fire risk that has bplagued the area this season. We checked to see if the campground on the other side of the mountain range was available, only to learn that it was closed due to fire damage. At that point, our decision was made for us—we would need to continue another two hours to the Kaibab Plateau where I had my last sets of traps to retrieve and where we could camp at Jacob Lake. While we were here, however, we took the opportunity to stop at a spot along Leeds Creek and see what we could find.
Oak Grove Rd crosses Leeds Creek in the lower part of Leeds Canyon.
Several different plants were in bloom, on which I’d hoped to find either Acmaeodera or longhorned beetles, the first that I looked at being Dieteria canescens (hoary tansyaster), but I only saw small dasytines (a few of which I collected). Nothing was seen on Solidago velutinus (velvety goldenrod) or Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia (gooseberry leaf globemallow) flowers, but then Mike came up with a Crossidius discoideus on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
Crossidius discoideus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
Careful searching of the plants in the surrounding area atop a small hill turned up an additional half-dozen individuals, but none were seen on any of the plants further up or down along the road. By this time, we’d spent about an hour and decided to finish the additional 2-hours drive needed to get to Jacob Lake.
Megaphorus sp. (family Asilidae).
Historic home in nearby Harrisburg, Utah.
Some of the western U.S.’s worst fires this season occurred on Arizona’s Kaibab Plateau. The Dragon Bravo Fire destroyed over 100 structures on the Grand Canyon’s North Rim—including the historic Grand Canyon Lodge and the North Rim Visitor Center, while the White Sage Fire simultaneously burned significant areas of Kaibab National Forest north and east of Jacob Lake. It was the latter that, unfortunately, swept across both of the sites where I had placed traps a month earlier in June, so I was not optimistic about the likelihood that they had survived. Fortunately, the fires did not reach the immediate vicinity of Jacob Lake, so the campground was unaffected and—unusual in my experience—nearly devoid of people. After setting up camp, I went back north into the burn zone to see if my traps 1) had survived and 2) could be retrieved. The area around the site was almost completely destroyed, with charred black skeletons of trees dotting blackened soils devoid of any vegetation.
Aftermath of the White Sage Fire in the Kaibab National Forest.
I had low expectations for the traps at this site even before the fires, as the area had already burned several years early and was in the early stages of recovery (I had decided to place traps here anyway because I wanted to see what the woodboring beetle fauna in a recovering area might look like).
Blackened trunks punctuate a stark landscape.
I continued walking the 2-track toward the trap location surveying the damage, came around a bend, and saw it—a lone, still-green pinyon pine with my jug trap hanging from a branch and a bottle trap, its yellow funnel only slightly heat deformed, still planted in the soil beneath the tree!
A lone green tree amongst the destruction—with my traps in the tree and below it both intact!
At first I was elated, but then I saw the jug trap reservoir was dry and almost completely empty save for a few dried beetle carcasses—the trap had survived the fires, but the associated winds had blown the trap and dumped the contents (none of which could be detected on the ground beneath). The bottle trap, on the other had, looked to be full of insects with plenty of liquid still in the reservoir, so I was hopeful that I would retrieve some good specimens from it. This proved to be the case (sort of!) as I pulled a few Anthaxia sp., a meloid, and lots of bees (for Mike) from the trap. The dried carcasses in the SRW-baited jug trap turned out to be an elaphidiine & several silphids.
After leaving the first trap site and driving towards the second (a few miles east of Jacob Lake), I saw little to no fire impacts as I continued east of Jacob Lake. However, as I got closer to the site I began to see impacts—first along the ridge above, then down the slope and engulfing the area where I had placed my traps. Fortunately, the fire did not seem to have been as severe in the immediate area, so I remained hopeful.
Intact jug trap in burned woodland east of Jacob Lake, Arizona.
The bottle trap was found first and was in much the same condition as the bottle trap at the previous location—it’s blue funnel slightly heat-deformed, but the reservoir was filled with liquid and insects. Later sorting yielded an Acmaeodera diffusa?, a Melanophila sp., a couple of Anthaxia sp., a clerid, and lots of bees (for Mike). The Melanophila sp. was especially welcome—known collectively as “fire beetles” for their attraction to active fires, its presence in the trap may have been been a direct result of the fire. The SRW-baited jug trap was quickly found next, and much to my relief the trap was not only intact and undamaged but also filled with insects (in fact, the propylene glycol had not even completely dried). Later sorting would yield only a single longhorned beetle (plus a silphid and a Euphoria inda), but that longhorned beetle would prove to be the catch of the trip—Calloides nobilis mormonus! I have reared a single individual of the nominate subspecies from fire-damaged oak collected in Missouri, so I suspect the presence of this beetle is also a direct result of the fires that swept through the area—a satisfying irony.
Calloides nobilis mormonus (family Cerambycidae) attracted to sweet red wine-baited jug trap.
Back at camp and after another “surf & turf” dinner of sirloin steak and salmon, I did my customary nighttime walk to look for night-active beetles on the ground and in tree trunks. I had good luck with this here back in June, finding a Zopherus uteanus and several other beetles, but tonight’s catch consisted of just a single Temnochila sp. (family Trogosittidae) and a single weevil (superfamily Curculionoidea) crawling on the large trunks of Pinus ponderosa.
Unidentified weevil (superfamily Curculionoidea) on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine) at night.
Day 8
I’d seen a fair amount of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush) in bloom at the second site the previous day when I retrieved my traps but didn’t see any insects (or, at least, beetles or bees) on them. I figured this was due to the early evening hour, so we decided to come back during the day to try again. The E. nauseosa flowers were still, puzzlingly, devoid of insects (save for honey bees and enormous numbers of a large, black, bristly tachinine fly—possibly Archytas metallicus or Juriniopsis adusta).
Tachinine fly (possibly Archytas metallicus or Juriniopsis adusta—family Tachindae) on flowers of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush).
Like at Kyle Canyon, the absence of Crossidius spp. on E. nauseosa flowers was surprising, as I have seen them on this plant at almost every other location I have ever checked. You can’t make things appear no matter how hard you look, however, so we continued into some openings farther up the slop and encountered a few other plants in bloom. One was Dieteria canescens (hoary tansyaster), on the flowers of which I found a few small beetles of an unknown family. Nearby I saw several dead main branches in a clump of Quercus gambelli (Gambel oak)—cutting into them revealed a very small woodboring beetle larvae, so I collected several of the stems for rearing. Coming back down the slope I found a single cryptocephaline on the flower of Eriogonum racemosa (redroot buckwheat) and a single Acmaeidera rubronotata on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed)—the latter on which Mike had also found a single Crossidius discoideus. (This seems to be the first record of any species of Crossidius from the Kaibab Plateau! Maybe the other species are here as well but are not quite out yet at this relatively early date in fall.)
Crossidius discoideus (family Cerambycidae) collected on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
We were getting ready to leave when I spotted a large, fallen Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine) with the twigs brown but still attached (indicating it might be the right “amount” of dead to host woodboring beetles. Damage by such could be seen on the smaller branches, and cutting into them confirmed the presence of larvae and led to a second wood-cutting/bundling session to bring the beetle-infested twigs and branches back for rearing.
Chasing more floriferous pastures, we went back up to higher elevations and stopped at a spot close to the campground where we 1) saw a great diversity of plants in bloom and 2) could safely pull off the highway. A huge diversity of blooming plants were seen (from which Mike collected ~20 species of bees), but the only beetles of interest that I saw and collected were numerous small black/red cryptocephalines on the flowers of Eriogonum racemosum (redroot buckwheat). After Mike was satisfied he’d sufficiently sampled the diversity of bees at the site, we looked for another place to collect.
We drove south towards DeMotte Campground on Hwy 67, but much of the landscape was complete devastation due to the fires and no access was allowed beyond Kaibab Lodge. It was depressing to see the immense scale of destruction and loss of natural resources, but as one forest worker that Mike talked to put it, “It’s just trees, and he didn’t have to call anybody’s family [i.e., there was no loss of life].” We then drove back down past my second trap location where we had collected earlier in the day to see if we could find better stands of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed) on which to look for more Crossidius discoideus (still represented in the area by the single individual Mike had collected earlier). We drove through even more complete and utter destruction but eventually found undamaged areas at about 6600’ elevation. Not only was there G. sarothrae in bloom, but also Chrysothamnus visicidiorus (green rabbitbrush) and Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush)—all three species serving as hosts for various Crossidius and providing a perfect scenario for comparing and contrasting the sometimes-tricky-to-identify plants! The promise of Crossidius, however, would not be realized, and after an hour of searching—finding only a lone weevil on the flowers of E. nauseosa—did I finally admit defeat and concede that Crossidius from this after would have to come some other time.
Inflorescences of Gutierrezia sarothrae (left), Chrysothamnus viscidiflorus (middle), and Ericameria nauseosa (right). Note the distinct ray florets of G. sarothrae and blue-green leaves of E. nauseosa.
I hadn’t planned to do my customary nighttime walk this evening—my motivation waning after the less than meager success of the previous night, continuing relative absence of beetle life I’d seen during the day, and temps now dropping towards the 50s. A cute but shy Uinta chipmunk in our campsite captured my photographic interest as we relaxed, and the setting sun turned the clouds a stunning pink!
An Uinta chipmunk (Neotamias umbrinus) climbs a Ponderosa pine to stay as far from my camera as possible!
However, as night fell the siren song of the nighttime walk began singing its tune and I was unable to resist.
The setting sun turns the clouds an exceptional pink.
It turned out to be a more successful night than I’d expected—I found a small species of tenebrionid [Edit 10/1/25: Eleodes pimelioides] on the rocks surrounding the campsite, and there turned out to be dozens of the little buggers crawling though the pine duff in the campground.
Eleodes pimelioides (family Tenebrionidae) in alpine coniferous forest at night.
Nothing else was seen, however, and since tomorrow would be a long travel day I called it an early night.
Day 9
On a mostly travel day, we tried to take a big bite out of the many miles that still separate us from St. Louis, where we planned to be in three days time. We got another look at the devastation east of Jacob Lake before reaching the dramatic drop off the Kaibab Plateau and down into the Vermilion Cliffs National Monument—their massive red bluffs accompanying us all the way to Mojave Canyon. Just south of there as the highway climbed up and out of the valley, we made a quick stop to remove excess clothing (having gone from high elevation to low), and alongside the road I spotted a Crossidius pulchellus on the flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed). This is the furthest southwest I have collected this species, and I was tempted to continue looking to see if I could find the other G. sarothrae associate—C. discoideus—as well. We still had a long drive ahead of us, however (destination Mills Rim Campground in northeastern New Mexico), so I resisted temptation and we continued the drive.
The Vermilion Cliffs, stunning as they were, still weren’t the highlight of the drive. That honor would come from the moonscape formations along Hwy 89 as it followed the Echo Cliffs and then turned east onto Hwy 160 towards Tuba City. We then passed through a series of stunning plateaus and drops on Hwy 264 as it passed through the Navajo and Hopi Reservations. One abandoned house as we dropped down off the Ganado Mesa was especially picture-worthy.
Abandoned home on the Ganado Plateau near Kykotsmovi Village, Arizona.
Eventually we crossed the state line at Picture Rocks into New Mexico, and, suddenly, the landscape seemed more “tame” and less hostile. I don’t normally like interstates, and the stretch of I-40 to Albuquerque did nothing to change my opinion of them, but I must admit that I-25 north towards Santa Fe was among the most picturesque I have ever seen. Eventually, we left the mountains and found ourselves once again on the western edge of the Great Plains—its vast featureless expanse a true contrast to the landscape we had witnessed throughout most of the day. This apparent homogeneity, however, is misleading—tucked away in places unknown to most are some remarkable natural areas, and Mills Rim is one such place. We arrived after dark, so the explorations of its hidden charms would have to wait until the next day, but after getting camp set up I did a short nighttime walk to see what was out and about.
Night sky at Mills Rim Campground, Harding Co., northeastern New Mexico.
Only one beetle, Stenomorpha sp. (family Tenebrionidae) ambling across the ground, was seen.
Many plants in bloom were also seen however, so I went to bed optimistic about my prospects for finding beetles the next day.
Day 10
Mosquitoes were bad during the previous night, and they were bad again the following morning, prompting liberal use of repellent to a much greater degree than I am used to. At the same time, the presence of mosquitoes indicates abundant moisture in an area, and it was with that optimism that I set about searching for jewel beetles, longhorned beetles, tiger beetles, and whatever other insects could catch my eye in this hidden jewel of a place. Surrounded by treeless grasslands (and preserved as the Kiowa National Grasslands), Mills Rim Campground sits at the edge of Mills Canyon—a chasm in the landscape at the edge of a plateau bordering the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. Firmly embedded in the Great Plains, the juniper/pine/oak woodland at the edge of and down in the canyon features plants and animals at their easternmost extent—residents of the Rocky Mountains that have found an isolated home in the middle of the grasslands. Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine), Pinus ponderosa (Ponderosa pine), Juniperus monosperma (one-seed juniper), Juniperus scopulorum (Rocky Mountain juniper), Quercus grisea (gray oak), and Quercus × undulata (wavy leaf oak) all make their homes here, hosting innumerable insect species that are normally more at home in the Rocky Mountains.
View into Mills Canyon from Mills Rim Campground.
I’ve collected here several times and recorded many different western species of beetles, but the height of the season seems to be in June and July. Mid-September, in contrast, seems to be near the tail end of the season, the numbers and diversity of beetles and other insects dropping from their highs earlier in the season. The flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae, however, were hosting lots of insects. In addition to Crossidius pulchellus, Chauliognathus basalis, Bothrotes canalicularis, and Collops sp., Mike found numerous bee species, mostly females, collecting pollen from the flowers.
Crossidius pulchellus (family Cerambycidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
Chauliognathus basalis (family Cantharidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
Bothrotes canalicularis (family Tenebrionidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
A couple of species of robber flies—Ospricerus sp. and Efferia sp.—were also taken in flight, presumably patrolling the flowers of G. sarothrae for bee prey.
Ospricerus sp. (family Asilidae) patrolling flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed) for bee prey.
Nysius sp. (false chinch bugs—family Lygaeidae) on flower of Erigeron divergens (spreading fleabane).
Mirabilis linearis (narrowleaf four o’clock—family Nyctaginaceae).
After a rest and rehydration break, I followed the road down Mills Canyon as it approaches the Canadian River to see if I could find Ericameria nauseosa—should I be able to, it would surely be at or near the easternmost limit of occurrence for the species in this part of New Mexico.
Mills Canyon above the Canadian River.
A bit further down Mills Canyon Road.
About half a mile down the road I began seeing Acmaeodera rubronotata on the flowers of G. sarothrae, and I eventually secured a series of about a half dozen specimens. This is a nice record, as I found a single specimen a couple of years ago at Black Mesa in northwestern Oklahoma—a new state record and northeastern range extension, and this record helps bridge the gap between that record and the species’ more normal range of distribution across New Mexico and Arizona. Finally, nearly a mile into the canyon, I found one large blooming E. nauseosa and a smaller pre-bloom plant, but there were no Crossidius beetles on them, nor were any additional plants were seen a hundred yards or so further down the road, so I turned around.
Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush—family Asteraceae) along Mills Canyon Road.
On the way back out of the canyon, I collected a Calopteron sp. (family Lycidae) on senescing Melilotus alba (white clover) and photographed a female Stagmomantis limbata (Arizona mantis—family Mantidae).
Stagmomantis limbata (Arizona mantis—family Mantidae) on flowers of Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed).
Back at camp, a couple of scarabaeoid beetles flew to the light of the lamp while we were relaxing with refreshments in hand and waiting for the coals to be ready. This suggested that maybe conditions were favorable for setting up the ultraviolet lights to attract other insects.
A final night of relaxing at camp with refreshments in hand.
After finishing dinner, we did exactly that and saw a few interesting insects show up, but shortly after setting up the lights the wind began to kick up, the temps began to drop, and increasingly frequent gusts making further lighting impossible!
Stagmomantis limbata (Arizona mantis—family Mantidae) male attracted to ultraviolet lights.
Schistocerca nitens (gray bird grasshopper—family Acrididae) attracted to ultraviolet lights.
Ophion sp. (short-tailed ichneumon wasp—family Ichneumoidae) attracted to ultraviolet lights.
Day 11
It was a rather sleepless final night in the tent—winds whipped as we turned in for the night, and shortly afterwards we awoke to rain splattering our faces through the fly-less tent roof. We quick got up and put on the rain fly, then listened to light but steady rain for most of the rest of the night. By the time we got up it had mostly stopped, but cool conditions with low-hanging, fast-moving clouds caused us to quickly break camp and save coffee and breakfast for Mocks Coffee Shop in Clayton, New Mexico near the Oklahoma state line (let me tell you how difficult it was for me to drive two hours first thing in the morning without coffee!). We had wanted to make our final collecting stop at a a lot near Kenton in the Black Mesa area of extreme northwestern Oklahoma, but the forecast for the area showed only slightly warmer temperatures and very gusty winds. This would make collecting there pointless, so we instead traveled four more hours east to get in front of the cold front at another of our favorite collecting spots, Gloss Mountain State Park in Major Co.
Gloss Mountain State Park features gypsum-capped mesas atop Permian red siltstones.
I was hoping to see an attractive late-season jewel beetle—Acmaeodera macra, which I had collected here and at nearby Alabaster Caverns State Park in previous years during late September. Temps were good (well over 80°F) when we arrived but the hour was already late (near 4:00 p.m.), so we had limited time for collecting before insects would start bedding down for the evening (usually around 5:00 to 6:00 p.m. at this point in the season). Megatibicen dorsata (bush cicada) and Neotibicen aurífera (prairie cicada) males were still singing abundantly, filling the air with their distinctive songs (video of M. dorsata male singing here).
Megatibicen dorsata (bush cicada—family Cicadidae) male singing on my hand after being taken from the stem of Helianthus annuus (annual sunflower).
Helianthus annuus (annual sunflower) and Grindelia ciliata (wax goldenweed) were blooming prolifically, off the flowers of which Mike collected a fair diversity of bees. I’d hoped to find beetles on the flowers as well, but they were limited almost exclusively to Chauliognathus limbicollis.
Chauliognathus limbicollis (family Cantharidae) on flower of Grindelia ciliata (wax goldenweed).
I did collect a male/female pair of Tetraopes femoratus (red-femured milkweed borer) on the seed pod of Asclepias engelmanniana (Engelmann’s milkweed) and photographed the striking and beautiful caterpillar of Schinia gaurae (clouded crimson moth) on the stem of Oenethera glaucifolia (false gaura).
Tetraopes femoratus (red-femured milkweed borer—family Cerambycidae) on seed pod of Asclepias engelmanniana (Engelmann’s milkweed).
Schinia gaurae (clouded crimson moth—family Noctuidae) on the stem of Oenethera glaucifolia (false gaura).
After that, I went up on top of the main mesa where I expected A. macra to occur. Heterotheca stenophylla (stiffleaf false goldenaster), on the flowers of which I collected A. macra in previous years, was blooming abundantly, but intense searching their flowers produced no beetles. I also noticed that Gutierrezia sarothrae (broom snakeweed), abundant in the area as well, was in only the earliest stages of bloom, suggesting to me that it might still be a bit too early for the jewel beetles to be out. By the time the 6:00 hour arrived, insect activity was noticeably diminished, and we wrapped up this, our final, collecting stop of the trip.
No camping is available at Gloss Mountain State Park, so we knocked out another hour and a half of travel by driving to Ponca City in north-central Oklahoma and taking a hotel there. For the first time since we left, we enjoyed dinner at a restaurant (fried catfish for me!), a hot shower, and a real bed!
Day 12
The following morning, we were surprised to learn that the only coffee shops in town were Starbuck’s and drive-throughs. This just wasn’t going to cut it for us on our final travel day, so we drove 15 minutes north to the small town of Newkirk and enjoyed great coffee, breakfast sandwiches, and scones at “Savvy Cactus” (Newkirk Mercantile Boutique & Espresso Bar). (The coffee was good enough that I bought a bag of their coffee!)
“Savvy Cactus” Newkirk Mercantile Boutique & Espresso Bar in Newkirk, Oklahoma.
The rest of the drive back to St. Louis was spent reflecting on the many experiences we’d just had and synthesizing the new knowledge while enjoying the landscape as it skirted the southern edge of the Flint Hills of Kansas and traversed the familiar hills and dales of our beloved Missouri Ozarks—the end of a 3,931-mile trip!
Fr. James Sullivan (left) and Ted MacRae (right) stand under a banyan tree in Key Largo, Florida, 9 May 1986 (photographer unknown).
In Spring 1986, the Rev. James Sullivan (Fr. Sullivan to those who knew him) and I made a two-week trip to Florida with the objective to explore as much of the state as we could—from the Panhandle to the Keys! My goal, of course, was to collect beetles2, especially woodboring beetles in the families Buprestidae and Cerambycidae (it was only my third trip outside of Missouri for such purpose), while Fr. Sullivan’s was to identify and document as many plant species as possible. This apparent dichotomy in interests was not as clean as it may seem—as an entomologist interested in host plant relationships, the chance to spend time in the field with as accomplished a botanist as Fr. Sullivan was too good to pass up, and Fr. Sullivan’s passion for studying insect associates of the plants he studied greatly aligned our interests. My memories of that trip have faced in the nearly 40 years since, jogged only by the specimens I collected now residing in my cabinet and two trays of 35 mm slides taken with an Olympus OM10 SLR film camera. Fortunately, Fr. Sullivan was more diligent than I in journaling his observations during that trip, a copy of which he gave to me. This report is an attempt to summarize our observations using these materials. In his journal, Fr. Sullivan made the following disclaimer: “Plant determinations in these notes must be regarded as tentative: We have not had the use of a complete flora for any portion of the State of Florida. We have been as precise as possible with the use of several less complete sources. ★This star symbol indicates plant determinations that were later confirmed by the use of the Flora of Tropical Florida or by other adequate keys.”
[Note: names for most of the plants included in this report were confirmed by Fr. Sullivan, the primary exceptions being those indicated with question marks (?). As a result, I have omitted use of the star symbol in this report. Also note that plant taxonomy has likely changed immensely during the past 39 years. Scientific names, common names, and plant families given are those we used at the time, and only in a few cases have they been harmonized with current nomenclature (my notes in [square brackets]). An asterisk (*) denotes plants and insects that were also photographed.]
We left St. Louis on the morning of April 28 with the goal of spending the night in Montgomery, Alabama. The next morning, true to form, Fr. Sullivan got up early to explore the area around the hotel before continuing the drive south. He noted two plants: Cirsium horridulum and Sapium sebiferum (Euphorbiaceae), the latter a fast-growing deciduous tree known as Chinese tallow and native to eastern Asia. All parts of the tree emit a milky white sap when damaged, which is toxic and can cause gastrointestinal upset if ingested. As we continued south, we noted the first Spanish moss (Tilandsia usneoides) draping the trees along Hwy 281. The growth was very well-developed, leading Fr. Sullivan to speculate that it also probably occurred north of Montgomery along I-65 but that we missed it due to our nighttime arrival.
Later in the day we arrived at our first destination, Torreya State Park in the Florida Panhandle, home of the extremely rare Florida nutmeg (Torreya taxifolia*) tree that grows only on the bluffs along the Apalachicola River. We explored the heavily forested hills and ravines of the area and found examples of this plant alongside the road near the entrance to the campground. However, we documented a diverse list of other plants including Acer barbatum [= A. saccharum ssp. floridanum] (Florida maple), Actaea pachypoda, Amorpha fruticosa, Aralia spinosa, Ascyrum sp., Callicarpa americana, Calycanthus floridus, Calycarpon lyoni, Cnidoscolus stimulosus*, Conopholis americana, Conradina canescens*(Lamiaceae), Croomia pauciflora* (Stemonaceae), Decumaria barbara, Dirca palustris, Erigeron strigosus, Erythrina herbacea*, Euonymus americanus*, Lonicera sempervirens*, Halesia sp., Hydrangea quercifolia*, Ilex opaca, Itea virginica*, Lygodium japonicum, Mitchella repens, Myrica serifera, Onoclea sensibilis*, Opuntia humifusa*, Rhaphidophyllum hystrix (needle palm), Ruellia carolinensis*, Sebastiana fruticosa* (Sebastianbush, Euphorbiaceae), Spiranthes praecox*, Viburnum sp., and Wahlenbergia marginata. Insect collecting consisted primarily of an assortment of longhorned beetles attracted to ultraviolet (UV) lights at night.
After two nights at Torreya State Park, we traveled further down the peninsula along the central spine to Highlands Hammock State Park, one of the oldest state parks in Florida protecting 9,000 acres of old-growth cypress swamp and oak hammock. We first explored the Wild Orange Grove Trail (noting wild orange trees as well as our first alligator!) but moved to other areas of the park over the next two days. We noted the occurrence of three species of palms here: Rhaphidophyllum hystrix (needle palm), which lacks the leaf midrib of and has fewer leaf divisions than Sabal palmetto (cabbage palm), the most common palm and distinguished by a strong leaf midrib, and Serenoa repens (saw palmetto) with its saw-toothed petiole edges. We repeatedly saw the tortoise beetle Hemisphaerota cyanea on the leaves of S. palmetto. A nice variety of longhorned beetles was also collected here, including the Florida endemic Typocerus flavocinctus and several lamiines at UV lights at night. A blister beetle (family Meloidae) similar to our Nemognatha nemorensis was common on the flowers of Aster reticulatus* and Pterocaulon pycnostachyum* (both Asteraceae), and on flowers of Cirsium horridulum we saw the leaf-footed bug Acanthocephala terminalis* (Coreidae). Other plants that Fr. Sullivan noted include Abrus precatorius*, Ardisia crenulata* (crenate berry bush, Myrsinaceae), Asimina pygmaea* (?), Bacopa sp.*, Bidens pilosa*, Callicarpa americana*, Cuthbertia graminea (?), Emilia sonchilfolius, Eriocaulon sp.*, Erythrina herbacea, Hypericum sp.*, Ilex cassine, Ilex glabra, Lachnocaulon anceps, Lygodesmia aphylla*, Lyonia lucida*, Mikania scandens, Oxalis violacea* (?), Persea borbonia, Polygala lutea*, Schrankia microphylla*, Tephrosia chrysophylla, Urena lobata, Utricularia sp.*, and Xyris sp.* Fr. Sullivan also noted in his journal a list of a dozen “rare” birds such (e.g., cardinal, catbird, crow, etc.!).
Our next destination was outside the northwestern limits of Everglades National Park at Collier-Seminole State Park, which lies partly within the great mangrove swamp of South Florida (one of the largest mangrove swamps in the world) and covering one of three original stands of royal palm (Roystonea elata [= Roystonea regia]) in Florida (the park was previously called Royal Palm Hammock). We primarily explored the Royal Palm Hammock Nature Trail and along the water’s edge around the boat basin, where Rhizophora mangle* (red mangrove) lined the edges of the salt marsh. Two species of Solanum were observed, primarily S. erianthum (potato tree) but also S. donianum*, and we noted the pleasant fragrance of a Eugenia sp. that escaped identification. Bursera simaruba (“tourist tree”), with its distinctive peeling bark, was also common here. We noted Baccharis halimifolia heavily infested with the leaf beetle Trirhabda bacharidus*, saw Heliconius charitonius butterflies on the wing, and observed a cluster of young seed bug nymphs* (Lygaeidae), likely one of the milkweed-associated species, on a vining species of milkweed. Deer flies (family Tabanidae) were a real problem for both of us, and we had to use head nets (Fr. Sullivan even resorted to wearing his London Fog jacket!). Other plants documented included Acrostichum sp., Alternanthera sp. poss. philoxeroides (Amaranthaceae), Batis maritima, Bidens pilosa var. radiata, Blechum brownei, Borrichia frutescens*(sea daisy), Commelina diffusa, Dicliptera assurgens*, Dicromena sp.* (white-bracted sedge, Cyperaceae), Eugenia sp.*, Ipomoea alba (moon flower), Ipomoea sagittata*, Passiflora pallens, Pithecellobium unguis-cati (cat claw), Pluchia odorata (camphor weed), Polygala grandiflora var. angustifolia, Psychotria undata*, Solidago sp.*, Triodanus sp., Urena lobata*, and Zanthoxylum fagara (lime prickly ash). Similar to previous localities, a diversity of longhorned beetles were attracted to UV lights at night.
After two days at Collier-Seminole, we drove east along the Tamiami Trail, noting the magnificent stands of bald cypress (Taxodium distichum) in the Big Cypress Swamp Preserve and seeing the first water hyacinths (Eichhornia crassipes) in bloom. We also saw Australian pines (several species in the genus Casuarina)—angiosperms rather than gymnosperms. Its needles are much longer than true pine (genus Pinus), and the trees appeared very dark green as seen from a distance. Eventually we landed at John Pennekamp Coral Reef State Park on Key Largo. Most people visit this park to dive and explore the spectacular living reefs of the Florida Keys; however, we had more terrestrial objectives. We began by exploring the coral limestone woodland along the Wild Tamarind Trail, where Metopium toxiferum*was common along the woodland border (and we took care not to touch!). A large ichneumonid wasp* (Ichneumonidae) was seen perched in the understory, and we noted the impressively oversized female of the spider Nephilia clavipes* being courted by an equally strikingly diminutive male. Lysiloma latisiliqua* was abundant in the woodland, as was Bursera simaruba* its bark red and peeling like a sunburned tourist! Coccoloba uvifera was also abundantly fruiting, and other plants seen include Alternanthera sp., Conocarpus erecta var. sericea, Schinus terebinthifolius*, and an unidentified composite (either Eupatorium villosum or Garberia sp.). Along the Mangrove Trail we saw (of course) not only red mangrove Rhizophora mangle*) but also black mangrove (Avicennia germinans*, Avicenniaceae) and white mangrove (Languncularia racemosa, Combretaceae). These three plants are placed in three unrelated families, yet all show a high degree of fidelity to mangrove ecosystems. At a Persea americana* orchard in the adjunct Shaw Property, we saw Hamelia patens* in bloom and Lysiloma latisiliqua growing around the orchard’s edge. Other plants seen in the area include Abutilon sp., Batis sp.*, Eupatorium villosum* (?), Gaillardia pulchella*, Heliotropium angiospermum, Heliotropium curassavicum, Hibiscus tiliaceus, Melanthera sp., and Rivina humilis*.
Our plan the following day was to continue down the length of the Keys, making stops at a few selected places along the way before spending the night in Key West. At our first stop on LowerMatecumbe Key, we noted Avicennia germinans, Eustoma exaltatum*, and Polygala baldwini (as well as a Great Blue Heron) and then continued southwestward to Long Key State Recreation Area [now Long Key State Park]. Most people visit Long Key for its beaches and fishing, but we came to the preserve to explore the endangered coastal dune ecosystem that it protects. Few insects were seen, but a number of interesting, mostly highly salt-tolerant, plant species were seen. These include Abutilon sp., Argemone mexicana*, Cassasia clusiifolia*, Chrysobalanus icaco, Ipomoea pes-caprae, Lantana involucrate, Manilkara bahamensis* (wild dilly, Sapotaceae), Scaevola plumieri* (inkberry, Goodeniaceae), Solanum diphyllum, and Suriana maritima* (bay cedar). We finished the day at Key Deer Preserve on Big Pine Key, a sanctuary for the smallest subspecies of white-tailed deer in North America. We did not see any deer, but we did see some interesting plants. Byrsonima cuneata* (Malphigiaceae) was common here, as was Croton linearis. Along the Nature Trail we saw the orchid Bletia purpurea* (pale pink) and also recorded Aletris sp., Chrysophyllum oliviforme (Sapotaceae), Dichromena sp., Ernodia littoralis*, Metopium toxiferum, Pithecellobium sp., Polygala verticillate (?), and “thatch palms” (plus a hissing alligator!).
The next two days were spent at Everglades National Park, where we began our visit by exploring the Long Pine Key Nature Trail, where Cladium jamaicensis* (sawgrass) and Taxodium distichum* dominated the landscape. We noted that it was easy to pass one’s fingers over the sawgrass blade edge in one direction, but not so easy in the other! It was here that I found what I considered a real prize—my first ever bumelia borer (Plinthocoelium suavelons)! I also collected the very colorful Trichodes apivorus on the flowers of Sabal palmetto. Fr. Sullivan had even more success with the plants—so much, in fact, that we were only able to explore the east end of the trail. Several plants belonging to largely tropical plant familys were seen, including Dodonaea viscosa (varnish leaf, Sapindaceae), Tatrazygia bicolor* (Melastomataceae), and Dipholis salicifolia (willow bustic, Sapotaceae). Polygala balduinii (or a similar species) and an unidentified Buchnera sp. were common. The recorded list of other plant species seen was diverse: Asclepias lanceolata*, Baccharis sp., Byrsonima cuneata, Calopogon sp.* [likely C. tuberosus var. simpsonii], Croton linearis, Dichromena sp., Heliotropium polyphyllum var, polyphyllum (H. leavenworthii ) (Boraginaceae), Jacquemontia jamaicensis, Lobelia glandulosa*, Melanthera angustifolia (Asteraceae), Myrica cerifera, Myrsine guianensis, Passiflora sp.*, Persea bordonia, Piriqueta caroliniana, Psychotria nervosa, Rhus sp., Sabatia sp. poss. brevifolia*, and Stillingia sylvatica ssp. tenuis (Euphorbiaceae). We returned again to Long Pine Key Nature Trail the following day to explore the west end near Pine Glades Lake, finding many of the same plants recorded the previous day but also Ageratum littorale (?), Bletia purpurea, Justicia ovata var. lanceolata*, Lippia stoechadifolia, and Morinda royoc. From there we moved on to the P.K. Nature Trail, where Cynanchum blodgettii was seen twining over much of the vegetation—including other plants of its own species!. Fr. Sullivan spent a good deal of time studying a plant found growing at the edge of Pine Glades Lake, which he presumed to be a species of Lippia that exhibited pleated leaves with matching teeth (leading him to call it “corduroy lippia” or “pleated lippia”). Eventually he settled (and later confirmed) the species as Lippia stoechadifolia, a Neotropical species limited in the U.S. to south Florida and the Keys. Other plants observed included Angadenia berterii, Urechites lutea, and (my favorite) Zamia floridana* [likely Z. integrifolia var. silvicola].
Back at Key Largo near Tarpon Bay (below our motel), Fr. Sullivan continued exploring the plants, especially the mangroves. He noted that Avicennia has “dewdrops” but that the other mangroves do not. This relates to the processes used by the plant to eliminate excess salt, which in Avicennia involves salt water “perspiration” that dries in the heat of the day (indeed, the residue of salt flecks is useful in distinguishing Avicennia from the other mangroves) but in Rhizophora is done by accumulating salt in the oldest leaves before they turn yellow and drop. He also noted that Avicennia and Rhizophora can be distinguished by color; Avicennia, which normally grow a little farther from the water, are closer to gray-green, while Rhizophora are closer to yellow-green. Tridax procumbens was a common roadside weed around the motel—its flowers and fluffy seedheads rise on long scapes, as if leafless, but are actually attached to the sprawling, hairy stems, which bear many deeply cleft leaves with opposite arrangement. He also noted Morinda royoc growing not only in the woods but also hedgerows. It is like Psychotria [both species are in the Rubiaceae], but without the large, nervy leaves. The fruits aggregate to look like large, yellowish mulberries. Hamelia patens grows right along the highway here, and several large Solanum shrubs with stellate trichomes on the leaves and white flowers were seen that may be a complex of species including S. donianum, S. verbascifolium, S. erianthum, or yet another species.
On May 10, the field visits were over, and it would take two days of driving to return to St. Louis. Even beginning the drive home, however, did not stop Fr. Sullivan from botanizing. During a stop at the drawbridge on Hwy 1 between Key Largo and the mainland, Fr. Sullivan collected Stachytarpheta jamaicensis, its flower tubes emerging from upward pointing, elongate triangular bracts, and its leaves being coarsely dentate. Also, from the highway in northern Florida, we saw what appeared to be the frequent occurrence of blooming Asimina. These were low plants with white flowers and leaves present. Spending several days in south Florida also gave Fr. Sullivan a chance to contemplate the different hammock habitats that we had visited, and he noted the following: “A hammock is basically a hardwood forest. A hammock in Florida has a significance parallel to that of a glade in Missouri: it is a relief from the ordinary situation. In the Everglades hammocks take the form of “hillocks”: The forest seems to build itself above the level of the sawgrass wetlands. In Highlands County, on the other hand, the hammocks occupy depressions in the topography. It is natural for the pinelands to burn with some degree of regularity, but the wet depressions are protected from most fires. Fire actually helps Pinus to have a competitive edge (since the needles make good tinder and the resin burns so hot, the pines contribute to their own survival situation), but in the wet depressions the broadleaf hardwoods are able to take over. The State Parks often feature the hammocks. As we go farther south, the hardwood species become more tropical. We have seen a lot of Bursera simaruba, a hammock feature, but have yet to see Ceratiola ericoides, which is more a representative of the norm for this state. Visiting Mahogany Hammock in the Everglades we learn that it is protected from sawgrass fires by a natural moat surrounding it. The moat results as limestone strata are eaten away by the hardwood-produced acids.”
1 Deceased April 15, 2025.
2 Permits for collecting beetles were obtained from the Florida Department of Agriculture and the National Park Service.
Welcome to the 17th “Collecting Trip iReport” covering the first of two planned insect collecting trips to the southwestern U.S. this season—this first one occurring during June 4–13. This was another solo trip, and while it was not as long as I’d hoped, I still managed to visit 15 different localities—one in northwestern Oklahoma, six in northern Arizona, six in southern Utah, and two in southern Nevada.
I left Kansas City in the morning with two goals: 1) look for Acmaeodera robigo (family Buprestidae) in Texas Co., Oklahoma (based on a 2011 observation posted to BugGuide), and 2) make it to Black Mesa State Park in the far northwestern corner of the Oklahoma panhandle before sunset (to avoid having to set up camp in the dark). It was a long day of driving (mostly through heavy rain), but by the time I arrived at the A. robigo locality, skies were clear and the area was dry. Texas Co. is the largest (and seemingly flattest!) of the three Oklahoma panhandle counties, but I have not collected in the county previously because most of it has been converted to cultivated wheat. This particular location, however, lies within the Beaver River drainage and, thus, features native shortgrass prairie vegetation.
Beaver River drainage where Acmaeodera robigo was observed in 2011.
The host plant mentioned in the A. robigo observation, Melampodium lecanthemum (blackfoot daisy—family Asteraceae), was blooming abundantly along the roadsides, so I checked the flowers carefully up one side of the highway and down the other side.
Melampodium lecanthemum (blackfoot daisy).
Nothing was seen on the flowers, but given the lateness of the hour and cool temps I did not expect to see anything. Still, I set three white bottle traps in the area within patches of M. leucanthemum and will plan on retrieving them up later this season. With luck, the traps will have attracted adults if the species as they visit the nearby flowers.
Bottle trap, antifreeze, and a spade are all that is needed to trap flower-visiting insects.
Moving west I quickly entered Cimarron Co.—I always enjoy seeing this double-line of utility poles stretching to a seemingly endless horizon at the border between Texas and Cimmaron Counties. The latter is not only the westernmost county in the state, it is also the only county in the U.S. that borders four other states (Texas, New Mexico, Colorado, and Kansas).
Entering Cimmaron Co., the westernmost county in Oklahoma.
I made it to Black Mesa State Park with plenty of daylight left to set up camp. Per usual, after getting camp setup I enjoyed “refreshments” and waited for nightfall to walk the roads looking for nocturnal beetles (or any other critters that might be out and about). I did see an Eleodes sp. (darkling beetle—family Tenebrionidae) early in, but the night was chilly, and the onset of light drizzle put an end to the walk.
Ready for bed!
This would not be the end of my nighttime hiking, however—at 3am I was awakened by the drone of a motor, and it was loud enough that sleep would be impossible. Thinking it was an inconsiderate camper down at the RV campground, I decided to investigate and discovered it was a water pump within the campground. I decided if I couldn’t sleep, then somebody else would also have to be awakened, namely the campground host. It took the elderly woman a few minutes to come to the door after I rapped a few times on her RV, and I apologized for waking her before explaining the situation. She said she wouldn’t know anything about how to turn it off, to which I replied that I didn’t expect her to know that but I’ll bet somebody does and maybe she could make a call and figure out who that is or this wouldn’t be the last time somebody wakes her at 3am. I figured that would be the last of it, that I’d be awake until morning, and that I would have another nine hours of driving the next day on only three hours of sleep. But, to my relief, about a half hour later a park maintenance vehicle pulled up to the pump house, and a young man turned the motor off (I thanked him profusely). I did eventually get back to sleep and awoke to birdsong and clearing skies.
Day 2
There is a low water bridge at the south entrance to the park that crosses a normally dry creek. However, this time the creek was filled with water with lush growth of sedges and grasses along the water’s edge. This is a perfect situation for Taphrocerus species (family Buprestidae), and at this literal transition point from the eastern to the western fauna I’m not sure what species I might encounter there. Unfortunately, thorough sweeping of the sedges produced no beetles, so the question will for now remain unanswered.
Creek at south entrance to Black Mesa State Park, Oklahoma.
Heading south and then west from the park takes you shortly into the northeastern reaches of New Mexico and the town of Clayton. Whenever I pass through Clayton I like to stop at Mock’s Crossroads Coffee Mill for a bag of freshly ground coffee.
Mock’s Crossroads Coffee Mill, Clayton, New Mexico.
Skimming across the northern reaches of New Mexico for the next several hours was uneventful with no indication of a repeat of the heavy rain that pounded me for much of my drive yesterday across Kansas and Oklahoma. The situation changed, however, as I crossed the Continental Divide on the approach to Farmington.
I think I’m going to get wet.
I’m sure I’m going to get wet.
Sure enough, I once again had the pleasure of driving through driving rain. In addition, I arrived at my next planned spot just north of town (Brown Springs Campground) to find the entrance and main road under several inches of water. No point in trying to collect there, so I continued on towards the next stop (Devils Canyon Campground) in southeast Utah (San Juan Co.) in hopes of arriving early enough to set up camp before dark. Things looked promising as I crossed through the southwestern corner of Colorado towards Monticello, Utah, as patchy clouds filled a sun-filled sky.
Near Dove Creek, Colorado.
The presence of large oval emergence holes in the lower part of the limb confirmed that this tree was, indeed, under attack by such, and stripping the bark around the holes revealed fresh workings from the larvae indicating that some of them may still be inside the tree.
By the time I reached the campground, however, the rain had returned—not hard, but steady. I didn’t relish the thought of setting up camp in the rain and did something I almost never do—heading back into town and spending the night in a motel! At least I was able to enjoy a burger cooked by someone else for a change.
Day 3
Day 3 started off gray and overcast with the threat of more rain, but looking at radar and the areas I was going further west had me optimistic that I would get out of the rain once and for all. My ultimate stop for the day would be Jacob Lake Campground in north-central Arizona (Cocconino Co.), and my plan was to stop at a number of places along the way. Devils Canyon Campground itself, however, was still under clouds, meaning that collecting there would likely not be very productive. Nevertheless, despite last night’s rainout and the continuing cool, wet conditions, I decided to place some traps that I could pick up later in the season and, thus, get at least a sample of the area’s beetle fauna.
Devils Canyon Campground, Utah.
The campground lies at ~7000 ft, and I found a ridge with ponderosa pine/gamble oak forest on the slope to one side and pinyon/juniper/oak woodland on the crest of the ridge to the other. On the ponderosa side I set a white bottle trap, and on the pinyon/juniper side I set a sweet red wine-baited jug trap. There wasn’t much in bloom at the time other than a few yellow composites and the occasional Oenothera cespitosa (tufted evening primrose—family Onagraceae) with blossoms still wide open despite the daylight hour due to the overcast, cool conditions.
Oenothera cespitosa (tufted evening primrose).
Coming down off the plateau towards Bluff, Utah, thick low clouds gave way to higher broken clouds with warmer temps (mid-60s). I stopped a few miles west of town at a location where Mont Cazier once collected what was later described as Agrilus utahensis (family Buprestidae) and began sweeping roadside vegetation. While I was sweeping, I encountered three Amannus vittiger (family Cerambycidae) on the flowers of Sphaeralcea coccinea (scarlet globemallow—family Malvaceae) (along with a few meloids and bees for others). The record of A. utahensis was from quite a bit later in the season (late July), so I didn’t really expect to find it (although I was hopeful). However, I did sweep what appears to be Agrilus malvastri.
Amannus vittiger collected on flowers of Sphaeralcea coccinea (scarlet globemallow).
Sphaeralcea coccinea (scarlet globemallow).
A short distance west of the stop had me entering northeastern Arizona, and traveling west of Dennehotso on Hwy 160 I encountered patchy, low lying clouds though which beams of bright sunlight lit up the red rocks below and cast a reddish hue on the bottoms of the clouds.
West of Dennehotso, Arizona on Hwy 160.
A bit further west on Hwy 160 is a formation apparently known as “Baby Rocks.”
Baby Rocks, west of Dennehotso, Arizona,
As I drove, I kept my eye out for areas along the highway with stands of plants in bloom, and I found just such at a roadcut on Hwy 98 near mm 325 as I approached Page, Arizona (Cocconino Co.). There was a fair amount of Sphaeralcea coccinea in bloom, off which I collected a handful of Acmaeodera pubiventris lanata and one Amannus vittiger from the flowers. I swept the grasses and other roadside vegetation thoroughly, but that produced nothing. I returned my attention to the Sphaeralcea and swept it thoroughly as well to be sure I didn’t miss anything. Good thin I did, as that turned up one more each of A. p. lanata and A. vittiger as well as a few Agrilus sp. prob. malvastri.
Acmaeodera pubiventris lanata on flower of Sphaeralcea coccinea (scarlet globemallow).
After passing through Page, Arizona, rather than continuing straight west to Jacob Lake Campground, I veered north into Kane Co., Utah to revisit a locality I’d visited a couple of years ago about 23 mi northwest of Page on Hwy 89. The last time I stopped here (late June 2023), I found a few Nanularia brunneata (family Buprestidae) on the stems of Eriogonum inflatum (desert trumpet—family Polygonaceae). That visit was about three weeks later in the season than this time, and not only was the area dry (despite all the rain east of here), but there was very little new growth on any of the E. inflatum plants—just the dried stalks of last year’s growth. Still, there was fresh growth present at the spot, in the form of Ericameria nauseosa (gray rabbitbrush—family Asteraceae), on which I collected a single cryptocephaline leaf beetle, and along the roadside rain shadow in the form of Sphaeralcea parvifolia (small-leaved globemallow), on the flowers of which I collected several more Agrilus sp. prob. malvastri. Eventually, I did find a single E. inflatum plant with small sprouts of new growth on which I found several clytrine leaf beetles. Sweeping the S. parvifolia produced one more Agrilus sp. prob. malvastri, a single Acmaeodera navajoi—a species I collected here abundantly two years earlier, and a series of a very small chrysomelid leaf beetle species that I observed feeding on the foliage.
Once I got a bit further west, the landscape turned green again, indicating recent rains, so I checked iNaturalist for nearby records of E. inflatum that I could check for N. brunnea. There was one a few miles east of Kanab (Kane Co.) and on the way to Jacob Lake Campground, so I stopped by to see if I could find the plants. Unfortunately, the record turned out to be on private property, so I couldn’t go to the precise location. I looked around the area outside the property but didn’t see any plants; however, S. parviflora was blooming abundantly along the roadsides, and sweeping it produced a few more Agrilus sp. prob. malvastri and a couple of small bees (for Mike).
11 mi E of Kanab, Utah.
There were also several blooming Opuntia polyacantha var. erinacea (Mojave pricklypear—family Cactaceae), which I checked for Acmaeodera, but I found only one large bee (again, for Mike). With the sun by then dropping close to the horizon, I called it a day and headed for the campground.
Opuntia polyacantha var. erinacea (Mojave pricklypear)—pink-flowered form.
I arrived at Jacob Lake Campground (Cocconino Co., Arizona) and got camp setup before dark, which settled in as I was cooking dinner. It was chilly at this relatively high elevation (7900 ft)—temps were already in the mid-50s and were forecast to drop down into the 40s by morning. Despite the chill, I found a Zopherus uteanus (family Zopheridae) and a smaller tenebrionid on a cut stump of Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine).
Zopherus uteanus on cut stump of Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine) at night.
Later, I walked the site—not really expecting to see much because of the chill, but I did find three Iphthiminus lewisii (family Tenebrionidae) on the trunk of a recently fallen P. ponderosa and saw two more on a pine stump.
Iphthiminus lewisii on trunk of recently fallen Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine) at night.
With three days of travel—the first two mostly rainy and today dry but still quite cool, I’m hoping the forecasted warmer, sunnier conditions for tomorrow and onward come true and I can get this collecting trip in high gear.
A waxing gibbous moon illuminates my camp at 7900’ in Jacob Lake Campground, Kaibab National Forest, Arizona.
Day 4
After morning coffee (and moving to a different campsite—long story!), I went back north a bit to the area near Lefevre Overlook that had been only lightly impacted by the widespread burns that occurred here a few years ago and is showing signs of recovery. It felt “early season” with patchy clouds, moderate temps in the low of mid 70s, and plenty of moisture in the soil with lots of plants in bloom. Insects were not abundant, but with continued beating I collected a couple of Anthaxia sp. (family Buprestidae) and a variety of small clytrines, cryptocepahlines, and curculionids off of Purshia standsburyana (Standsbury’s cliffrose—family Rosaceae) in flower.
Purshia standsburyana (Standsbury’s cliffrose).
As the morning warmed, insects seemed to become a bit more active, although the day continued to feel “early season.” Persistent visual searches and beating of a variety of plants turned up a few small black/yellow Pidonia? (family Cerambycidae), one Acmaeodera diffusa?, and one Anthaxia sp. on flowers of Hymenopappus filifolius (fine-leaved hymenopappus—family Asteraceae); one Agrilus sp. prob. malvastri, another Pidonia?, and one A. diffusa? on flowers of Sphaeralcea ambigua (desert globemallow); several small clytrine and cryptocephaline leaf beetles and curculionid weevils on Quercus gambelii (Gambel oak—family Fagaceae); and several A. diffusa? and a few Anthaxia sp. on flowers of Tetraneuris acaulis (four-nerve daisy—family Asteraceae). Sweeping through the area where the T. acaulis was growing produced nothing further of interest, so I placed a sweet red wine-baited jug trap and a yellow bottle trap in the area—hopefully they will each attract a variety of interesting beetles over the next few months.
Sweet red wine-baited jug trap hanging in a tree and a yellow bottle trap sunk into the ground below.
A bit further down, the mountain escaped the fire that ravaged many other parts of the mountain. I expected to see much more insect activity, but the opposite instead was the case. This may be related to the lower incidence and diversity of flowering plants, which were likely triggered at the previous spot by the fire. I did find a small area where Sphaeralcea ambigua was blooming abundantly and sweeping through them produced a fine series of Agrilus sp. prob. malvastri along with a few bees (for Mike). I walked up the slope a ways, but there was virtually nothing in bloom—unlike what I had seen at the previous spot. Eventually, I did find a few Hymenopappus filifolia and Tetraneuris acaulis, but the only I beetle I saw on any of them was a single Acmaeodera diffusa? on the latter.
Escobaria vivipara (viviparous foxtail cactus).
Without anything luring me further up the slope, I worked my way back down towards the car and was about ready to call it a day when I decided to take a gander a bit down the slope—just in case I might see something of interest. Nothing captured my attention, however, so I worked my way over a bit to take a different route back. That’s when I saw it! All day long I had been keeping my eye out for large Utah junipers (Juniperus osteosperma—family Cupressaceae) with thigh-sized main limbs—one of which was dying (not dead), possibly a result of woodboring beetles, and before me was just such a tree!
Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper) with dying main limb.
The presence of large oval emergence holes in the lower part of the limb confirmed that this tree was, indeed, under attack by such, and stripping the bark around the holes revealed fresh workings from the larvae indicating that some of them may still be inside the tree.
Large oval emergence hole caused by a species of longhorned beetle.
Fresh frass packed in the galleries by longhorned beetle larvae.
I hiked back to the car to get my chainsaw—brought along on the trip just for such an eventuality—and cut a portion of the infested limb out of the tree so I could bring it home and attempt to rear out the adults. My hope is that the species infesting the tree is Semanotus juniperi (family Cerambycidae), a very uncommonly encountered longhorned beetle that breeds in the large limbs of juniper in this area, so I’ll be keeping my fingers crossed. Hauling out the infested bolt along with the chainsaw was a struggle, but eventually I made it back to the car and celebrated a successful last act to what had up to that point been a not too spectacular first full day in the field.
Bolt of Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper) infested with longhorned beetles.
I needed a break after working the chainsaw and hauling out the wood, so I went back to the campsite to enjoy an end-of-the-day “beverage” and eventually dinner. However, part of me was thinking Inshould have collected more of that infested juniper to increase my odds of successfully rearing whatever was infesting it, so I resolved to do exactly that in the morning.
Dinner on the grill at Jacob Lake Campground.
Before dinner as I was gathering kindling, I had noticed a large, fallen ponderosa pine behind the campsite and returned after dark to see if there might be any nocturnal beetles attracted to it. It seemed recently dead, but as I inspected the upper branches more closely I saw that it had been dead long enough that whatever would have been attracted to it had already come and gone. I thought maybe I could find beetles under the bark and began peeling the bark in the trunk. The bark was still intact but was just loose enough that I could peel it off in large sheets. Doing so, however, revealed only a couple of click beetles (family Elateridae). I didn’t see any other fallen or dead trees in the area, but on the trunks of large living ponderosa pines I found a tenebrionoid and several individuals of a Lecontia discicollis (burnt conifer bark beetle (family Boridae). [Edit: thanks to Alex Harmen for the identification on this one!] Nearby was a cut stump of a very large ponderosa pine, and peeling back the thick bark at the base of the stump revealed yet another elaterid species and two darkling beetles. I was hoping to find more Zopherus uteanus, but no such luck!
Lecontia discicollis (burnt conifer bark beetle) on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine) at night.
Day 5
After a morning of the coffee ritual and observing campsite wildlife, I made an ice run at the nearby service station.
I was having second thoughts about taking only a single bolt of wood from cerambycid-infested Utah juniper that I found at the end of yesterday’s collecting and decided to go back to get more of the infested wood to improve the likelihood of successfully rearing adults from the wood. It would not be an easy job—I’d have to haul the chainsaw down the the tree, cut off the two remaining infested bolts, cut the bolts down to cartable pieces, and then haul the chainsaw and wood bolts back to the car, likely requiring several trips. It was worth it, however, because as I was stripping bark to see where I needed to make the initial cut, I encountered an intact cadaver of one of the beetles that had died while trying to emerge from the wood. I carefully extracted the abdomen from the tree and found the head and pronotum in the bark and placed them in a vial, and they without a doubt represent the species I was hoping they were—Semanotus juniperi, a super rare species that very few people have ever collected [tip of the hat to Ron Alten for sharing his knowledge about this beetle with me and enabling me to find this beetle for myself!]. I’ll be able to put the beetle back together when I get home, and I’m hopeful I’ll rear at least a small series of beetles from the wood I’ve collected.
I love the smell of chainsaw in the morning!
Having carted the additional bolts of wood back to the car and confident in my ability to recognize the work of this species, I looked for—and found—a few more trees that the beetle had infested. However, in each case the workings were old and no beetles were encountered chopping into the wood. I also spent some time looking for much smaller emergence holes in the thick trunk bark of several junipers and carefully shaving the bark to see if I could find another rare longhorned beetle species, Atimia vandykei. I found several galleries that might have been this species, but no beetles or larvae were encountered, leading me to think I might have been a bit late and the adults have mostly emerged. A large, recently dead Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) also caught my attention, as it looked fresh enough to still contain wood boring beetles that might have infested it. The wood was very hard and difficult to chop into, but I didn’t encounter any larvae of any kind and elected not to collect a bolt or two for rearing. Lastly, I spent some time looking for dead Gambel oaks, which in this area could host Xylotrechus rainei (family Cerambycidae), a recently described species that few have collected. I found several dead stems of the shrubby oak species that contained workings consistent with those of Xylotrechus, but in each case the workings were old and no beetles or larvae were present. This string of “failures” might have seemed like the makings of a bad day, but the success with S. juniperi overshadowed those failures and I left the site happy (though exhausted!).
The author sports his new field hat (an early Fathers Day gift!).
I returned to the first stop of yesterday to see if I could find junipers in this area infested with S. juniperi, reasoning that since the area had burned a few years ago some of the still-living trees might be stressed, thus making them more vulnerable to infestation. I also wanted to see if the bottle and jug traps I placed yesterday had caught anything of interest (even though it had only been one day). Along the way I picked up a single Anthaxia sp. on the flower of Tetraneuris acaulis and a few Acmaeodera diffusa? on flowers of Sphaeralcea ambigua. There wasn’t anything of interest in either trap, so I set about looking for infested junipers. I found only one, but again the workings were old and no larvae or adults were encountered. I also examined a few dead stems of Gambel oak, but none showed signs of infestation. (I suspect they had been killed by the fire and the damage to the wood by the fire made the stems unsuitable for infestation.) I did, however, find a small more recently dead Colorado pinyon pine that showed signs of recent infestation all along the trunk and collected it for rearing. By then, the day had warmed considerably and I was already exhausted from the morning’s chainsaw session, leading to a loss of motivation to keep looking. I needed a change of pace and decided to head higher up the mountain back into the ponderosa pine forest for some more “traditional” woodboring beetle collecting.
Callophrys gryneus (juniper hairstreak) on flowers of Hymenopappus filifolia (fine-leaved hymenopappus).
The forest at this site is dominated by ponderosa pine, and the strategy here was straightforward—look for large, dead or dying trees, either standing or recently wind-thrown, and inspect the examine the trunks for woodboring beetles. I came to this spot two years ago in early July, so this time was about four weeks earlier in the season. I had two specific targets (beyond woodboring beetles in general)—Chalcophora (family Buprestidae) and Monochamus (family Cerambycidae). Both of these genera are the subject of molecular studies being conducted by other researchers that I know, and I’ve been promising to send them fresh specimens killed and preserved in ethanol. The first wind-thrown tree I encountered was still green-needled, and I expected to find buprestid beetles all over it. Instead, all I saw were a few small Enoclerus sp. (family Cleridae). Large dead standing trees dotted the open forest, and I carefully approached and circled each one looking for beetles, paying special attention to those in full sunlight. Time after time, however, I was frustrated. Each time, I chopped into the wood a bit to examine what was going on underneath the bark, and while workings were plentiful I never encountered any larvae.
4.2 mi N Jacob Lake on Hwy 89A, Kaibab National Forest, Arizona.
Finally, I approached a large standing dead tree, and perched on its trunk in the sunlight was Chalcophora angulicollis (western sculptured pine borer). I’m happy to give this specimen up for DNA sequencing, especially since I already collected a specimen at this same spot two years ago (before the molecular study began).
Chalcophora angulicollis (western sculptured pine borer) on trunk of dead Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine).
I peeled a good portion of bark of the tree it was perched on but found nothing except a large elaterid larva (I wonder if it was Alaus melanops [western eyed elater], a predator or woodboring beetle larvae).
Alaus melanops (western eyed elater) collected from under bark of dead Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine).
For a long time afterwards that would remain the only beetle I encountered until I found a large standing tree in the early stages of death (needles pale green but not brown) with a female Dicerca tenebrosa (family Buprestidae) searching the trunk, occasionally stopping to probe a crack or crevice with her ovipositor. Patiently waiting at the trunk rewarded me with a second individual within a short period of time.
Dicerca tenebrosa on trunk of dead Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine).
Another long period of nothingness ensued as I zigzagged from dead tree to dead tree, eventually retracing my steps to the only two trees on which I had found buprestids. Even that failed to produce additional beetles, but as I was standing at one of them I heard a woodpecker persistently pecking and searching and pecking on a nearby tree. The tree looked perfectly healthy at first glance, but I figured the woodpecker had to know something that I didn’t (I’m always willing to learn from locals!) and walked over to the tree. It was immense, and a closer look at the crown revealed a few browning needles scattered throughout the crown. Then a closer look at the trunk revealed several of the same small Enoclerus sp. I saw earlier crawling on it. Woodpeckers and checkered beetles don’t lie, and this tree was clearly under stress and under attack by woodboring beetles. An initial circling of the trunk revealed no other beetles, but then I noticed the gangly antennae and legs of a male/female pair of Monochamus clamator, the male apparently mate-guarding the female. I’ll be happy to contribute one of these specimens to my colleague for DNA sequencing and keep the other for my collection.
Monochamus clamator on trunk of stressed Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine).
By that time, the sun was starting to get rather low in the horizon and I was utterly exhausted after a full day of walking, chopping, chainsawing, and hauling. I passed by the two previously successful trees on the way back to the car, to no avail, and headed back to camp (stopping at the nearby market for a celebratory milkshake before going into the campground).
Caenochrysis sp. (family Chrysididae) on trunk of dead Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine).
Day 6
The day’s plan was to head north to the area around Coral Pink Sand Dunes system in southern Utah, but before I left I decided to go down the east slope of the Kaibab Plateau a bit to see it I could find a good transition zone (one that hadn’t burned) from the higher elevation ponderosa pine forest to the juniper/pinyon woodland just below. A few miles east of Jacob Lake, right as I hit 7000’ (there was even a sign to that effect) while descending into the canyon, I saw a small pulloff with ponderosa pine forest (and even some fir) on the east-facing slope to the right and juniper/pinyon/oak woodland on the west-facing slope to the left—perfect! It struck me as a good-looking spot to set some traps, so I set a blue bottle trap in an open area on the juniper/pinyon/oak side of the highway and hid a sweet red wine-baited jug trap in the woodland right above it. I then started beating the patches of Gamble oak hoping for Brachys (family Buprestidae) but finding only a single Anthaxia sp. and several species of clytrine leaf beetles and curculionid weevils. There was a patch of Sphaeralcea ambigua in flower near the pulloff, off which I collected several Acmaeodera diffusa? plus another of those small black /yellow lepturines (Pidonia? sp.) that I found yesterday, and I swept some chunky black dermestids and a couple of bees (for Mike) from the flowers of Hymenopappus filifolia. Next came a long period of nothingness! I found another Utah juniper with damage on the main trunk by Semanotus juniperi, but once again it was old with no larvae or adults encountered after another exhausting chopping session. At this point, I turned my attention to the ponderosa pine forest across the highway, as I’d noticed some large dying/dead trees here and there that I wanted to check for buprestids. Despite checking every dead or declining pine within eyeshot, I didn’t find a single beetle! This, combined with the earlier fruitless chopping session, sapped my motivation, and I started heading back towards the car. Only a few A. diffusa? on the flowers of Opuntia polyacantha var. erinacea and Heterotheca hirsutissima (harsh false goldenaster—family Asteraceae) momentarily captured my attention on the way back.
Opuntia polyacantha var. erinacea (Mojave pricklypear)—yellow-flowered form.
As I neared the car, I saw a nicely blooming Purshia stansburyana and beat a nice series of Anthaxia (Haplanthaxia) caseyi from it. I’m not sure if the population in this area is assignable to any of the currently recognized subspecies, so I’ll be interested to study them closer and compare them to other unassignable populations I’ve found in other parts of Utah and Arizona. Right before I reached the car, I saw another juniper that begged “chop me.” I complied and then hated myself for it, as the result was the same as all the other junipers I’ve chopped into since finding that first one with Semanotus juniperi in it. With that, I said goodbye to the Kaibab Plateau and headed north towards Ponderosa Grove Campground near Coral Pink Sand Dunes north of Kanab, Utah.
Clytrine leaf beetle on flower of Purshia stansburyana (Stansbury’s cliffrose).
I reached the area around Coral Pink Sand Dunes (Kane Co., Utah) by mid-afternoon. My favorite campground in that area is Ponderosa Grove Campground—it’s large, spacious campsites are not only well shaded by the namesake, unique-for-the-area grove of massive ponderosa pines, but it is also located right across the road from Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area, a BLM-managed area with easy access to the northern portion of the Coral Pink Sand Dunes system (for those who may be asking, this portion of the dune system lies outside the boundaries of Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park, which protects the only known habitat of the highly vulnerable Coral Pink Sand Dunes tiger beetle, Cicindela albissima).
After picking a campsite (I was glad to see only a few sites occupied) and unloading my gear, I hightailed it to the dunes with one objective—find Chrysobothris nelsoni (family Buprestidae). I collected this species before on my previous trip here back in late June of 2023, but I spent a day and a half looking for it and managed to only a small handful of specimens. I thought the earlier timing might be better, but Norm Woodley was here a couple of weeks before and did not see the species, giving me reason to be also skeptical.
Looking across the dunes at Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area.
On the way to the dunes, I set out a yellow bottle trap and sweet red wine-baited jug trap in the sandy juniper/pine woodland bordering the dune. Upon entering the dunes, I immediately started seeing the host plant, Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat—family Polygonaceae), a distinctive plant with a basal rosette of linear leaves and, on some plants, a tall stem bearing the inflorescence. One plant in particular, right at the dune entrance, spoke to me saying “look at me.” I don’t know why, but I went over to it, tapped the basal rosette over my net, and off fell a nice large female C. nelsoni! Well, that was fast. I looked at a couple more plants and saw on a second adult (this one a smaller male) sitting head down at the base of the inflorescence stem—two specimens on the first three plants I looked at!
Chrysobothris nelsoni on basal rosette of Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat).
Chrysobothris nelsoni on basal rosette of Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat).
Chrysobothris nelsoni on stem base of Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat).
I found quite a few more (although not quite at that same frequency) over the next hour or so before they seemingly just disappeared. I noted the lateness of the hour and wondered if they have a ‘bedtime’—perhaps they burrow into the sand around the base of the plants for the night—and started back towards camp, picking up a few Eleodes caudifera lumbering across the surface of the sand along the way. I decided at that point, now that I had a nice series of the beetle, to bring the “big camera” over the next morning and try to get much nicer photos of the beetles on their host plant that what I can achieve with this iPhone.
Eleodes caudifera lumbers across the sand.
It had been a long day by that point—I was both famished and exhausted and needed a bit of time to rest and refuel. I had brought two salmon filets along with me, which should have been enough for two meals, but I was so ravenously hungry that I cooked and ate both.
Chill time at Ponderosa Grove Campground.
The rest and food gave me a bit of a spark, and as sunset approached I was inspired to set up the blacklights. Conditions were not close to ideal—a waxing gibbous, nearly full moon along with cool(ish) temperatures are usually enough to kill blacklighting. However, it was warmer than the past several nights at Jacob Lake (1300 ft higher elevation), so I compromised by setting up only the two ultraviolet lights (which I can run right off the car batter) but not the mercury-vapor lamp (which would have required hauling out and running the generator).
Not long after I turned the lights on, I noticed the bright, unmistakable glow of a mercury-vapor lamp at the far other end of the campground. I was like “That has to be an entomologist!” so hiked on down to introduce myself. As I entered the campsite, a man approached me and said “Hello, Ted.” Now I’m thinking okay we’ve met before, but I’m a dummy with poor social skills because I don’t recognize him. He said “My name is Mike.” The omission of his last name had me doubly thinking that I was an idiot because the mention of his name still wasn’t enough to trigger my memory of his last name or who he even was. When I asked him his last name, he said Rashko. I recognized that name instantly—he is the person who discovered Acmaeodera rashkoi, recently described by Rick Westcott and one of the species I had targeted on this trip. I told him of my plan and asked him how he knew who I was. It turns out he is a longtime follower of this blog and had seen my license plate (MOBUGS) earlier in the day. He was traveling from his home in Oregon to Flagstaff to meet his family and stopped here to spend the night and see what he could collect. We had a wonderful time chatting about the art of collecting and about colleagues we know (especially Rick, whose ears were burning I’m sure). I showed him the nice series of C. nelsoni that I’d gotten earlier in the day and told him we could go back in the morning before he left so that he could get some. We got so involved talking that we forgot to even look at his sheet to see what insects had come in until a Polyphylla uteanus (Coral Pink Dunes June beetle—family Scarabaeidae) smacked into his head and bumbled its way over to the sheet (Mike let me keep it). A large female Monochamus clamator also landed on the sheet (which Mike kept).
Eventually we said our goodbyes, and I wandered back to my campsite where I was mildly optimistic that my ultraviolet lights had brought in something. Sadly, there were no beetles of interest, but there was a stunning Hyalophora gloveri (Glover’s silk moth—family Saturniidae) and eventually two small white sphingid moths—all of which I kept for Rich Thoma back home. Success for me that night, however, was not yet out of sight. I made a round to inspect the massive trunks of the ponderosa pines dotting the campground and was rewarded with a nice little series of Zopherus uteanus.
Zopherus uteanus on trunk of Pinus ponderosa (ponderosa pine) at night.
I also found a few of the weirdly explanate Embaphion glabrum (family Tenebrionidae) crawling on the ground beneath the trees. A second round to look at the trees yielded no additional beetles, however, so I turned the lights off and turned in.
The “Big Dipper” prominently graces the western sky during the wee morning hours.
Day 8
Just as I had promised the night before, I wandered down to Mike’s campsite in the morning to see if he wanted to look for Chrysobothris nelsoni. He was already out looking for “beetles in the bush” around his campsite, and together we worked our way over to the dunes. It didn’t take long for me to see one of the beetles in its host plant, which I pointed out to Mike so he could see it and try to catch it himself. That beetle got away, but almost immediately he saw another one on a neighboring plant and succeeded in capturing it. We saw several more, but unlike the previous evening they were faster and more difficult to catch with the rising late-morning temps. Mike caught a couple more (and I one for the record) but had to leave, so we exchanged contact info and said our goodbyes.
Morning on the dunes.
The author (left) with Mike Raschko (right).
Back at the campsite, I looked around a bit to see what else I might collect. There was a nice diversity of plants in bloom, many which could be expected to be visited by buprestid beetles—Sphaeralcea parviflora (small-leaf globemallow), Opuntia aurea (golden pricklypear cactus), Hymenopappus filifolia, etc., but no beetles were seen. There were clumps of Gamble oak and Amelanchier utahensis (Utah serviceberry—family Rosaceae), but beating them produced nothing. The only thing I found was a recently windthrown branch of Utah juniper, which, when I stripped back some of the bark, proved to be in the early stages of infestation by longhorned beetles, probably a Callidium sp. The lack of insect activity (except for C. nelsoni) presented a quandary—should I stay another night (as planned), or should I pack up and head to my next destination (either Leeds Canyon, Utah or Kyle Canyon, Nevada)? I decided it was already too late in the day to head somewhere else—by the time I got there it would be late in the day, and I didn’t relish the idea of searching for an available campsite late with no reservation at such a late hour. I decided I might as well stay put and make the best of it—which I could do by going back over to the dunes and look for more C. nelsoni. The day’s heat, however, was not only making the beetles very difficult to catch but also starting to get to me. Fortunately, distant thunderclouds came closer and closer until they were directly overhead. Rather than rain, however, it was virga, so I got the best of both worlds—an immediate cooling off that was not only comfortable for me but also settled the beetles down without the rain that would have sent me scurrying back to camp.
Virga brings relief from the heat to the dunes.
In the end, I succeeded in collecting another nice series of specimens.
Chrysobothris nelsoni on basal rosette of Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat).
By then it was mid-afternoon and I was famished, so I headed back to camp to refresh, refuel, rehydrate, and catch up on my field notes. Comically, as I was writing my notes, I happened to be watching one of the common sagebrush lizards (Sceloporusgraciosus) that had been hanging around the campsite as it bit at and then rejected some type of insect that was crawling on the logpile next to the firepit. I got up to see what it had rejected, and it turned out to be Danosoma brevicorne (family Elateridae), which I am happy to add to the collection.
Common sagebrush lizard (Sceloporusgraciosus).
Danosoma brevicorne on woodpile.
After some chill time at the campsite [it was actually very busy—I wrote my field notes from earlier, charged all my devices using an inverter hooked up to the car battery, and downloaded photos from my “big camera” memory card to the computer], I went back to the dunes to see if I could get “big camera” photo of the beetles. It was touch-and-go at the start—shortly after reaching the dunes it started sprinkling and the wind started picking up. All I could do was wait it out, hope conditions improved, and be ready to bolt if the skies opened up. Just as quickly as it started up, however, it blew over, and I was able to start looking for beetles. As with every other time during this visit, it didn’t take long. The first beetle I found was a bit hidden within the crown of the plant, but I was able to carefully move the leaves out of the way without disturbing the beetle and got a nice series of shots. I was happy with the photos, but I wanted photos that were a little less “cluttered.” The perfect opportunity for such arose when I saw a beetle sitting out near the tip of a leaf. It was not in the best position—other leaves were partially blocking it from view, so I carefully grabbed the leaf at the base and gently pulled until it detached from the plant. Fortunately, the beetle wasn’t phased by the tugging and continued to sit calmly on the leaf. I wanted a blurred pink sand background, which I thought would look spectacular behind the brilliant green color of the beetle, so I stuck the base of the leaf in the sand to prop it up and adjusted the angle and distance in concert with my camera and flash settings until I achieved the desired effect. I’m super happy with how some of these photographs turned out, so look for them to appear in a future post. I’m probably lucky that the mini-storm moved through when it did, as the cool conditions likely calmed the beetles down and made them more willing subjects. By the time I finished photographing the second beetle, the sinking sun signaled a dinner bell, and I walked back to the campground super satisfied with how this visit had turned out.
After dinner, I turned the ultraviolet lights on despite the just-shy-of-full moon and customary coolish temperatures. I didn’t expect anything to show up, but you don’t know if you don’t try (nothing ever showed up!).
Mustard makes everything fancy in the field.
While waiting for nothing to come to the lights, I made several rounds of the large ponderosa pines, expanding the circuit to include some further toward the west end of the campground. As with the night before, I found a half dozen Zopherus uteanus crawling on the trunks (one was up too high to reach, though, and when I knocked it down with a stick it disappeared into the thick vegetation below the tree). I’d really like to know what these guys are up to during the day (hiding in the leaf litter at the base of the trees?) and what the larvae are doing (no idea!), but they certainly seem to be associated with pines (I’ve also collected Zopherus concolor at night on the trunks of Colorado pinyon pine). I also found a few more tenebrionid darkling beetles, including another Embaphion glabrum, crawling on the sandy ground beneath the trees. I expanded my search to include the trunks of some of the large Utah junipers, finding a few more tenebrionids on them.
Embaphion glabrum in ponderosa pine grove at night.
With midnight approaching, I soaked in my last bit of experience at the place before retiring for the night and leaving the next morning.
A waxing gibbous, almost full moon rises high above the campground.
Day 9
I left Ponderosa Grove Campground about 9:30 am with the plan to spend the next couple of days in Kyle Canyon and Lee Canyon northwest of Las Vegas. The drop down from the Colorado Plateau via the Virgin River Canyon was long the most spectacular stretches of freeway I’ve ever seen, but the sad reward waiting at the bottom was searing +100°F heat (the highest I saw registered on my car’s thermometer was 108°F!). Fortunately, turning off I-11 and heading west on Kyle Canyon Road gradually gained elevation. Before reaching the canyon proper, however, I had one of the trip’s top goals to take care of—setting a bottle trap for the recently described Acmaeodera raschkoi (recall that I encountered the namesake of this species, Mike Raschko, just two days prior at Ponderosa Grove Campground). I found the type locality no problem (where the modest gain in elevation had reduced the temperature to only 100°F!) and also found the trap that Mike had just set the day before we met.
Lower Kyle Canyon Rd—type locality of Acmaeodera raschkoi.
I placed yellow bottle trap about 59 m to the west from Mike’s trap and a blue bottle trap about 45 m to the east. There was no reason to stay at the locality and try to collect, as things were super dry, the only green vegetation seen besides the Yucca jaegeriana (eastern Joshua tree—family Asparagaceae) dotting the landscape was a small Cylindropuntia ramosissima (branched pencil colla—family Cactaceae).
I had originally planned to camp lower down in the canyon at Kyle Canyon Campground, but by the time I got there it was already nearly filled to capacity. There were a couple of campsites still available, but the campground as a whole had a noisy, crowded vibe that wasn’t my cup of tea. I decided to take a chance and head further up the mountain to Hilltop Campground to see if I could find something more to my liking. It was a short drive up the mountain, and this campground also was nearly filled to capacity. However, it was a much quieter vibe, and among the three campsites still available was one that was isolated from all the others on the side of the mountain with spectacular views across the canyon and down into the desert below. Also, the 8300 ft of elevation offered much cooler conditions—a welcome change from the searing temperatures I had endured earlier in the day. It was perfect!
View from Hilltop Campground, Spring Mountains, Nevada.
I quickly set up camp and began looking around. Not far from the campsite I found a wind-thrown branch Utah juniper, and slicing into the bark I found a dead adult Semanotus sp. prob. caseyi amplus (not as exciting as S. juniperi, but still a nice find) and a small scolytid bark beetle boring an oviposition gallery. I did a bit of chopping into the bark and found small new cerambycid galleries (probably either Callidium or Semanotus) and some very large frass-filled galleries at the larger end that may be Semanotus juniperi. I found the frass-plugged entrance hole to the sapwood —a sign that the beetle had not yet emerged—and chipped away on either side of the gallery into the sapwood until I saw the large cerambycid larvae sitting it it. This confirms that the wood is actively infested, and I’ll cut it up and bring it home for rearing. At the empty campsite next to mine, I found a small, recently dead Abies concolor (white fir—family Pinaceae), and closer inspection of the trunk revealed an adult Dicerca tenebrosa tenebrosa, and on a return trip to the tree I saw another one (but too high up to capture ☹️). I also hung a red wine-baited jug trap just south of the campsite. There wasn’t much else going on in the area and it was getting late, so I got dinner started.
Sunset at Hilltop Campground.
I didn’t even consider setting up lights—the combination of a full moon and the cool, windy conditions that typify sites at this high of an elevation made the chance of success highly unlikely (in fact, it got so cool that I needed to pull on a fleece pullover). That did not, however, mean I could not do any night collecting—examining tree trunks has become a favorite strategy of mine that can be done on almost any night regardless of temperatures or wind. Trees under stress or recently dead (as well as recent wind throws or woodpiles) are especially good to look at, and I had noticed several during my earlier foray that I made a point to check. At the same time, I have also learned not to ignore living, seemingly healthy trees, as these can also harbor interesting beetles. Of course, the very first tree I headed for was the recently dead white fir on which I had collected Dicerca tenebrosa a few hours earlier, and I was rewarded right off the bat with an unusually small Zopherus uteanus. I wondered if this might be an interesting locality for the species, but I saw the species was recorded from Kyle Canyon in a review of the genus by Triplehorn (1972) (at which time it was still placed in the family Tenebrionidae). I quickly found another individual, this time on the trunk of a large Utah juniper—interestingly, the first non-pinaceous host on which I’ve found the species (although still a gymnosperm).
Zopherus uteanus on trunk of large Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper) at night.
What I was most anxious to check, however, was a large Pinus monophylla (single-leaf pinyon pine) that I had seen nearby with a long, twisting scar from a lightning strike gashing down the trunk—surely there would be something on that (there wasn’t despite checking it repeatedly for the next couple of hours). What did produce beetles, though, was a large, recently wind-thrown branch from that very tree laying on the ground nearby—two species and multiple specimens of each, one (Oeme? sp.) searching frenetically back and forth along the branch, and the other (Haplidus? sp.) in the form of a mating pair. I found it interesting that my inspection of the branch earlier during the day produced nothing.
Oeme? sp. on fallen branch of Pinus monophylla (single-leaf pinyon pine) at night.
Haplidus? sp. mating pair on fallen branch of Pinus monophylla (single-leaf pinyon pine) at night.
At this point, the night was already a reasonable success, but the greatest success lay just ahead. I had noticed a few large Utah junipers that showed evidence of infestation by Semanotus juniperi—or at least that what I presumed based on what I had learned about that species in the Kaibab Plateau a few days earlier. Not that I thought I would see adults of that species, but I figured the trees would have to be under some stress and might attract other beetles (I had already collected Z. uteanus off of one a few minutes prior). The first one I checked had nothing on it, but when I checked the second one I noticed a large black longhorned beetle on the trunk underneath some shredded bark. I carefully removed the overlying bark to get a better look at it and quickly realized that it was, indeed, S. juniperi! As I prepared to take a photograph, I noticed movement a bit higher on the trunk, and there sat a second individual! In the fraction of a second that followed, the memory of all the chainsaw work I had done a few days earlier in an effort to rear proper specimens flashed through my mind, yet here before me now were two live adults on their host in the wild. I presume the tree is attracting the adults and that there are already numerous individuals inside of it, as I found large swaths of larval galleries under the bark but no obvious adult emergence holes. The tree itself looks healthy and shows no outward sign of stress, and were it not for the evidence of larval galleries I wouldn’t have even suspected it was infested. As with Z. uteanus, this species also has been recorded from Kyle Canyon (Hammond & Williams 2013).
Semanotus juniperi on trunk of large Juniperus osteosperma (Utah juniper) at night.
Over the next hour, I continued inspecting trees in the area, but especially those on which I’d found beetles, and eventually that effort was rewarded with a third S. juniperi on the same tree I collected the previous two. The final collection of the night occurred just after that, when I found not one but two more Z. uteanus, this time on the trunk of P. monophylla. I made one more quick round of the trees, but as it was now midnight I accepted the bounty of the night and turned in.
Days 10 & 11
Unfortunately, I had to end the trip rather abruptly due to a confluence of circumstances at home. The final straw was the rapid decline of Berlioz—our 20-year-old cat (only lifelong cat lovers will understand the bond between a man and his cat). It was not a surprise, and in the morning as soon as I was able to break camp, I left Kyle Canyon and spent the next two days blasting north on I-15 and west on I-70. Sadly, I wasn’t able to make it home before he passed. I’ve had many cats over the course of my life, but King Berlioz was the best!
A tobacco hornworm (Manduca sexta) caterpillar that has been parasitized by braconid wasps (Cotesia sp.). The wasps developed inside the caterpillar as grubs, consuming all but the most vital of organs to avoid killing it before they completed their development. They then exited the caterpillar’s body and spun small white silken cocoons in which to pupate and eventually emerge as adults. The adult wasps have already emerged, and though the caterpillar is still alive, it will die before it can complete its development and become an adult moth. The caterpillar was photographed at night in front of a so-called “supermoon” rising in the eastern sky. This is a single exposure image—-not a composite photograph—with the camera focused on the caterpillar (illuminated by flash) but its settings adjusted to also detect ambient light from the distant moon. The moon is necessarily out of focus due to depth-of-field constraints. Photographed 11 Aug 2014 in Mississippi Co., Missouri at the Hwy 62 bridge over the Mississippi River.
Honorable Mention (Plants and Fungi)
A single blossom on the inflorescence of clasping milkweed (Asclepias amplexicaulis). This uncommon species is scattered throughout Missouri but is especially fond of habitats with dry sand substrates. It can be easily identified by its erect, glabrous stems, sessile, clasping leaves, and pinkish flowers. Photographed 23 April 2012 in Scott Co., Missouri at Sand Prairie Conservation Area.
It’s my birthday, and as I’ve done almost every year of my adult life I did my first “real” collecting trip of the season. Since we’re down in Florida visiting Madam’s sister, I was especially excited for the chance to see new ground and hopefully find a few Florida specialties. The day started by getting up early to watch a spectacular full-moonset over the ocean—something I’ve never seen before.
Full moon over the Gulf of Mexico.
Nearing the horizon.
Touchdown!
I then headed up to the Citrus Wildlife Management Area of Withlacoochee State Forest to hook up with fellow beetle enthusiast (and soon-to-be book chapter coauthor) Kyle Schnepp from the Florida State Collection of Arthropods. Although Kyle and I have previously met at society meetings, it was our first time in the field together, and I was keen to take advantage of his local expertise to help me in my quest for Florida-endemic species. The habitat was dry oak/pine sandhill woodland with a grassy understory dotted with Opuntia australis (Florida pricklypear cactus)—itself an endemic plant.
Opuntia australis (Florida pricklypear cactus).
Temperatures were comfortably cool starting out due to an overnight cold front (who knew there was such a thing in Florida?), and I was filled with anticipation as I arrived at the meeting point and prepared my gear and greeted Kyle and his two companions shortly afterwards. I’d hoped to encounter Brachys leafminers, and we beat the oaks, both Quercus laevis (turkey oak) and Q. geminata (sand oak), exhaustively in search of such, but none were found. At one point, I pulled out the telescoping tropics net to see if I would have better luck accessing the upper canopy, but I had no better luck. Through it all, however, I did get a few other miscellaneous beetles and treehoppers on the former and the same on the latter along with an Anthaxia sp. Kyle also collected a Mastogenius sp. on the latter, which I hoped to encounter as well but never did, while his companions encountered single specimens of Agrilus rubroniger (a very nice find—I have but a single specimen that I collected in southwestern Missouri) and Chrysobothris chrysoela. I continued to beat the oaks but increasingly turned my attention to other things, including the pricklypears. The flowers were closed at first (due either to the morning hour or cool temperatures), but peeling back the petals I encountered a mating pair of Trichiotinus rufobrunneus (Florida flower scarab)—a Florida specialty!—plus one of the smaller, more widespread Trichiotinus lunulatus.
Trichiotinus rufobrunneus (Florida flower scarab—family Scarabaeidae) on flower of Opuntia australis (Florida pricklypear cactus).
I pulled the petals back on a few other flowers but didn’t see anything, then encountered a fallen dead branch of Pinus clausa (sand pine). Carefully lifting and turning over the branch revealed a Chrysobothris cribraria on the branch underside—just the second buprestid of the day for me. I then ran into Kyle again, who mentioned he’d seen a Mecas sp. on a grass stem, so I began sweeping the more open areas where the grasses—still mostly last season’s dried growth—and found two in my very first pass. These proved to be the largely endemic Mecasfemoralis! I would continue to sweep grasses as I traversed the open areas of the woodland, eventually collecting a nice series of 12–15 specimens. As I was sweeping, I noticed isolated plants of the endemic Lupinis ocalensis (Ocala lupine) and, on the foliage of one, a mating pair of lixine weevils that proved to be the endemic Scaphomorphus subcylindricus.
Scaphomorphus subcylindricus (family Curculionidae)—on foliage of Lupinis ocalensis (Ocala lupine).
I continued to the south side of the road where I’d earlier seen the pricklypears in hopes of finding the flowers now open. Such was the case, and in addition to further specimens of T. rufobrunneus I also encountered Acmaeodera ornata and Strangalia strigosa—the latter yet another Florida specialty that I’d not previously encountered.
Strangalia strigosa (family Cerambycidae).
Additional sweeping not only increased my series of M. femoralis but also turned up a mating pair of Typocerus zebra (zebra flower longhorn), while Kyle encountered a single Lycochoriolaus lateralis—apparently a mimic of lycid beetles, distasteful to predators, and yet another species I’d never encountered before. After nearly five hours, I decided to call it a day and started working my way back to the car. Along the way, I encountered a patch of Serenoa repens (saw palmetto) in flower. There was quite a bit of insect activity buzzing around the inflorescences, and a closer look revealed a variety of bees and a few Zelus longipes (milkweed assassin bugs) but few beetles of then oedemerids (false blister beetles). Then I noticed something “lycid-like” approaching the inflorescence, but something about it gave me pause. When it landed, I realized it was another L. lateralis. I was able to pick it up easily (it was not skittish as are most other longhorned beetles, perhaps because it relies on its mimicry to avoid predation), and further searching resulted in a fine series of nearly a dozen individuals, along with one more S. strigosa. Those would be the last insects collected, as beating oaks along the way back to the car still turned up nothing. I suppose I’ll need to make another trip down here if I want to collect Florida Brachys!
On the way back south (though not exactly “on the way home”), I stopped off at the Richloam Wildlife Management Area of Withlacoochee State Forest. Unlike the dry sandhill forest I’d just visited in the Citrus unit, the habitat here is wet sand forest. I was hoping to find stands of sedges (family Cyperaceae—usually found in and along wetlands) that I could sweep in the hopes of finding species of Taphrocerus—a genus of Buprestidae whose North American fauna I’ve been slowly revising over the years. These so-called “sedgy-wedgies” mine the leaves of various species of sedges, and there are still a few species of the genus that I haven’t yet myself collected—including the endemic T. floridanus. Kyle had recommended a location where I might find such sedges, which were abundant along the roadside. I swept them thoroughly, but to no avail.
As I was sweeping, a truck stopped and the driver called out to me and said “I just wanted to let you know I’ve already seen four or five good-sized rattlers here!” I thanked the man for his warning—though in reality I very well may have seen more rattlers in my lifetime than him. The man lingered as I returned to what I was doing—seemingly disappointed or surprised that his warning didn’t result in my immediate withdrawal. I suppose he was expecting me to run back to the car screaming like a little girl who’d just seen a spider. I was actually really hoping to see a rattler afterwards and was disappointed that I did not. The forest at this point was impenetrable, so I walked about a quarter-mile down the roadside, checking the flowers of Rosa palustris (swamp rose) along the way and being surprised to not see a single beetle—or any other insect, for that matter—upon them. In fact, the only insects I saw on anything were two very large “caterpillars”—actually larvae of Cimbex americanus (elm sawfly), a primitive wasp—on Salix caroliniana (Carolina willow).
Cimbex americanus (elm sawfly—family Cimbicidae) on Salix caroliniana (Carolina willow).
I crossed the road to walk the other side and soon ran into an Ilex cassine (dahoon holly) tree in full flower that was leaning over the roadside.
Ilex cassine (dahoon holly).
I saw a mating pair of Lyconotus lateralis (family Lycidae) on the flowers—their presence alerting me to the possibility of finding their longhorned beetle mimic, Elytroleptus floridanus. Despite finding perhaps a dozen lycid beetles, I found no E. floridanus. Another holly tree further up the road also hosted lycids but no longhorned beetles.
Lyconotus lateralis (family Lycidae) on flowers of Ilex cassine (dahoon holly).
Continuing a quarter-mile the other way past the car and further sweeping of sedges along the way back to the car was fruitless, and the lateness of the hour told me my insect collecting activities for the day had finally come to an end. Neverthess, I was content with series of several nice beetle species in my bottles, including a few true Florida specialities, and made my way back home.
You may recall in May I set out “jug traps” at several sites in northwestern Oklahoma stretching from Gloss Mountain State Park (just east of the panhandle) to near Kenton (extreme northwestern corner of the panhandle). I call them “jug traps” because they are made out of 1-G milk jugs. “Windows” cut into the upper part of the jug allow entry of beetles attracted to volatiles emanating from a wicked bait bottle suspended inside the upper part of the trap, and propylene glycol in the bottom part of the jug acts as a killing agent and preservative. (See this post for details about the traps and photos.) Six sets of traps were set out at five locations (two sets at Gloss Mountain, one at other locations)—each set consisting of three traps baited with sweet red wine, pure ethanol, or a 50:50 mixture of both. This is the second season of the study (the first was conducted last year at locations across southern Missouri) with the objective of evaluating the efficacy of the trap and baits for capturing various beetles. Longhorned beetles (family Cerambycidae) are the primary objective, but certain cetoniine scarabs (flower chafers in the genera Euphoria and Cotinus) and click beeltes (family Elateridae) are also highly attracted to the traps. I’m collecting data on all of these groups for analysis of relative bait efficacy and eventual publication of the results.
In addition to the jug traps, I also placed white “bottle traps” at each location with the objective of collecting beetles in the genus Acmaeodera (family Buprestidae). Finally, to round out the trapping effort I hung a Lindgren funnel trap (baited with a 50:50 mixture of ethanol and sweet red wine) at two of the locations (just for the heck of it!). All of the traps are being serviced and re-baited at ~5-week intervals—the first of these servicing runs done at the beginning of a 3-week collecting trip across the southwestern U.S. Additional collecting is done at each location as time permits. This post presents notes and photos from the second trap servicing run, which took place from 25–29 July 2023.
Day 1 — 25 July 2023 Alabaster Caverns State Park Woodward County, Oklahoma
It’s been five weeks since I last checked the jug traps I placed in northwestern Oklahoma, so today begins a four-day run to take care of them. I’m alone this time (for the first time this year 😢), so instead of conversation I had to rely on a backlog of podcasts to keep me engaged during the 8-hour drive to this, the first of four stops. I got to here about the same time as last time—6 p.m., and it was just as hot (if not hotter—103°F) as last time; however, the heat did not seem to bother me this time. Perhaps all the collecting I’ve done over the past month has me now nicely acclimated. I set about to check the traps and was pleased to find all three hanging intact and apparently undisturbed (always a concern when I check traps). Similarly to last time, Euphoria fulgida was a dominant capture in all three traps, but a nice variety of Cerambycidae were captured as well (nine species total), including the very uncommon Trigonarthris atrata and the first capture of Clytoleptus albofasciatus. There wasn’t much going on in the shortgrass prairie above the canyon, so I headed down to the campground inside the canyon with hopes of a productive evening of blacklighting.
Calopteryx maculata (ebony jewelwing—family Calopterygidae) along canyon stream.
Schistocerca obscura (obscure bird grasshopper—family Acrididae) in shortgrass prairie.
Mentzelia nuda (bractless blazingstar—family Loasaceae) in shortgrass prairie.
I still had about an hour of daylight left when I arrived at the campground, which gave me plenty of time to get coals going for dinner, set up camp, and set out the lights (both ultraviolet [UV] and mercury-vapor [MV]). For a while it was mostly hemipterans (leafhoppers, leaf-footed bugs, stink bugs, and Neotibicen superbus) coming to the lights (I collected a handful of the latter along with a single N. lyricens that also came), but later I started picking up a few interesting things including Eburia quadrigeminata (that answers my question as to whether E. haldemani might occur this far north to replace E. quadrigeminata from the east), a couple of Smodicum cucujiforme, a Telamona sp., and a handful of small Cleridae and Bostrichidae.
Light setup (ultraviolet plus mercury-vapor) in canyon riparian deciduous woodland.
Lithobates blairi (plains leopard frog) comes to feast on insects attracted to the lights.
Day 2—26 July 2023
It was rather warm sleeping, but by the morning temperatures had cooled off nicely and a thin cloud layer promised to keep them from rising too rapidly. After breaking down camp (and coffee!), I checked the Lindgren funnel trap: it had a smattering of Cerambycidae and other insects, but nothing rare or in large numbers. I also noticed a rather large dead branch in the Salix nigra (black willow) tree overhanging the tent—recalling my capture last time of Poecilonota thureura on the tent, I thought perhaps this could have been the source of it and collected the branch for rearing. On the way out to my next locality, I checked the bottle trap that I placed last time and found only a single Acmaeodera sp. along with a Trichiotinus texanus and a few Meloidae (also 10 bees for Mike).
Neotibicen superbus (superb dog-day cicada—family Cicadidae) in riparian canyon woodland.
Gloss Mountain State Park Major County, Oklahoma
I wasn’t quite prepared for what I found in the traps this time, although I should have had a clue considering how many Euphoria beetles that were in them last time. The Euphoria-overload has not subsided since then, and as well other insects—namely Plinthocoelium suaveolens and Elateridae—were trapped in overwhelming numbers. I didn’t think to bag the catch and wait for a more comfortable situation to count the specimens until I was already on top of the mesa and committed to filed-counts, and as a result it took me almost three hours to count just the first two traps (one of them had 750 Elateridae!). I finally got smart with the third trap and brought its contents down to the parking area to count at the table and shelter. The traps down below were not as overwhelmed by Elateridae as the traps above, but P. suaveolens were still quite abundant. I did get two new bait trap captures—Knulliana cincta and Plionoma suturalis. I also got a few Eburia that look like the eastern E. quadrigeminata rather than E. haldemani. The last trap (EtOH-only down below) was compromised—broken and with the contents dried to a crisp and unsalvageable. Since the lower set of traps was compromised last time (by wind), I decided not to replace the trap and will exclude the lower set of traps from the data analysis (a shame since there were two species in the traps this time that I have not gotten in any other trap—oh well, in science you live by the rules and you die by them!). In total, at least 14 species of Cerambycidae were present in the traps (including another Aethecerinus wilsonii, which I collected for the first time ever last month near Black Mesa). There were only a few Acmaeoderamixta/immaculata in the bottle traps, but since I have not collected this complex commonly here before and it seems to be a transition zone from one to the other any additional specimens are welcome. By the time I finished counting the last trap, it was almost 6 pm and temps had risen from 95°F at the start to 106°F! I knew it was hot and that I was getting quite dehydrated (despite a food/water break between the two sets of traps), but I didn’t realize just how badly until I started guzzling liquids non-stop after I got back to the vehicle and made a beeline for the nearest town to get even more cold liquids before heading off to the next location.
Diceroprocta eugraphica (family Cicadidae) male singing in mesquite grassland.
Microstylum morosum (giant prairie robber fly—family Asilidae) in mesquite grassland.
Beaver Dunes Park Beaver County, Oklahoma
As with Alabaster Caverns the night before, I reached the campground with about an hour of daylight and set up camp, cooked dinner, and set up the lights (both ultraviolet and mercury-vapor). It was a good night for lighting, with still warm though not uncomfortable temps, although the now 1st-quarter moon was noticeably brighter than the night before. Right off the bat I got a Megatibicen dealbatus (plains cicada) and a couple of Polyphylla sp., and over the course of the evening I would get one more of the former and plenty of the latter. Cerambycid-wise, however, I got a single Eburia sp. and one elaphidiine, so not overwhelming. The Eburia looks like it could be E. haldemani, which would be interesting since at the two spots further east the Eburia I collected there look like E. quadrigeminata. The lights shut down a bit early, as the generator ran out of gas and I decided not to hook up the ultraviolet-only lights to the car. With the clatter of the generator suddenly gone, I was able to enjoy the nights sounds that I’d been missing to that point. The unusually wet year the area has been having meant not only that the landscape is unusually green, but the normally dry marsh behind the tent area is full of water—and bull frogs bleating their monotonous calls. Megatibicen dealbatus continued to sing in the taller cottonwoods around the campground—I wasn’t aware the song of this species was so similar to that of the more eastern M. pronotalis (Walker’s cicada), nor that they called as late into the night as this. In fact, few cicadas in my area call deep into the night, a notable exception being M. auletes. I guess it’s not surprising to learn that M. dealbatus does as well, as they are both in the same genus.
Everything you need in a campsite for light-collecting insects—except a 1st-quarter moon!
Day 3 — 27 July 2023
Lower temps and cloud cover were welcome developments this morning, and since I was already at the site where I would be checking traps I was able to get started earlier and be done before temps got too high. The area has evidently gotten a lot of rain recently, so much so that the 2-track shortcut to my traps was washed out and impassable (had to back up a long way… uphill!). I was glad to see the Euphoria extravaganza had ended with no consequent Eburia explosion like there would be in Missouri right now (although here I WANT to see Eburia as they are likely E. haldemani). Elaphidiines seem to rule the cerambycid diversity at this spot—I suppose most/all are associated with the Celtis reticulata that dominates the woodlands around the sand dune margins. Only a smattering of other Cerambycidae were present, none of which were especially unusual. There were about a dozen Acmaeodera in the bottle trap—they look mostly like A. immaculata in this area (along with a variety of bees for Mike).
Acmaeodera mixta (family Buprestidae) on flower of Helianthus petiolaris (prairie sunflower) along margin of sand dunes/prairie.
NearLake Etling Cimmaron County, Oklahoma
After finishing at Beaver Dunes, I made the 3-hour drive to Black Mesa State Park (despite the worrying clouds in the direction I’m going!). Just before getting there, I stopped at this spot—given to me by fellow cicindeliphile Dan Duran, who a few days ago saw Cicindela nigrocoerulea, a species I have not yet collected. There was an abundance of grasshoppers and several different types of robber flies, but tiger beetle-wise the only species I saw/collected was the über-widespread Cicindelidia punctulata along with a ground nesting bee (for MIke).
Canyonlands in miniature.
Ominous clouds to the west.
1.6 mi E Kenton Cimmaron County, Oklahoma
The worrying clouds worsened, and by the time I arrived at this spot a few miles northwest of Black Mesa State Park (my ultimate destination) a steady roll of thunder could be heard in the near distance. I decided to bag it—not as in ‘give up,’ but to literally place the trap catch in bags for later counting. The dreaded Euphoria overrun did not materialize, but not did I see anything that looked beyond the usual (I’ll have to wait for the counts to know if I should be pleased or not). I worked with some urgency as the thunder grew nearer and light rain began to fall on me. The catch in the third trap was not overwhelming, so rather than bagging it I brought it back to the car and sorted it there as long as I could manage before the rain became too heavy. Only a handful of Cerambycidae were trapped, none uncommon or in large numbers, but the bottle trap contained more than a hundred Acmaeodera sp. (A. immaculata I suspect) and lots of bees (for Mike). The most exciting capture was not in the traps, but a male Prionus heroicus that I captured in flight (I saw two others, but they never approached closely enough).
Dactylotum bicolor (rainbow grasshopper, painted grasshopper, or barber pole grasshopper—family Acrididae) in pinyon/oak/juniper woodland on sandstone outcrop.
Black Mesa State Park Cimmaron County, Oklahoma
Before the rain hit too hard to continue, I managed to service the bottle and Lindgren funnel traps. The former was swamped by perhaps a couple hundred or more of a largish bee species (but curiously not a single Acmaeodera!), while the catch of the latter was in the early stages of decay and could not be salvaged (not sure why, the reservoir should have contained 50% propylene glycol just like all other traps set out this season). Once the rain really started falling, it did not stop. I took advantage of the opportunity to go into town and pick up supplies—perhaps hoping by the time I returned the rain would have stopped and I could proceed with checking the remaining traps or at least set up camp. Such was not the case, and eventually with impending darkness I went ahead and set up while it was still lightly raining. The tent suffered a bit of moisture inside but not too bad, and with the rain fly in place and room to spare inside it was a comfortable place to catch up on my notes. Briquettes were also started in the rain but, thankfully, proceeded to embers, helped along by the eventual end of rain. I would have preferred to have been setting up lights for night collecting—or at least sitting at the table outside so I could process the trap contents that I bagged, but I did enjoy spectacular views as the rain ended amidst dwindling daylight (the rainbow view from my tent was unsurpassed!). After dark, I took a short walk to the park showers to see if any nocturnal insects were walking the roads or had been attracted to the bathroom building lights. Sadly, the park utilizes “low bug” yellow bulbs, so it was a fruitless excursion other than fulfilling the need to move the legs once more before settling down for the evening.
Storm clouds seem to be breaking up.
Rainbow view from my tent after the storm.
1st-quarter moon at night after the storm.
Day 4 — 28 July 2023
I came back in the morning to finish the job with the three jug traps placed in the hackberry/soapberry woodland canyon below the overlook. Again, I bagged the catches from the three traps, not because they were overrun by the beetles that I’m counting, but because they were overwhelmed by hackberry butterflies and millions of tiny sap beetles that would have extended the counting time into the afternoon. Given the 11-hour drive I had to get back to St. Louis, I decided it was best to bag them and count them later so I could arrive home in the evening at a reasonable hour. Also, I ran out of propylene glycol after servicing the bottle and Lindgren funnel traps, so I used straight antifreeze (diluted ethylene glycol) purchased in town to refill the reservoirs of the three jug traps. Functionally it performs the same as diluted propylene glycol, but I prefer to avoid using it when possible since it could be toxic if ingested by wildlife.
Sphecius grandis (western cicada killer—family Crabronidae) on flower of Asclepias engelmanniana (Engelmann’s milkweed) in hackberry/soapberry canyon woodland.
Elaphidiines were super abundant in all three traps—at least three species could be discerned, and Neoclytus mucronatus (apparently the “vogti” form) were also abundant. The most exciting find, however, was a Megacyllene sp. that looks distinctly like M. antennata—if this is the case, it would represent a significant northward extension to the known range!
Welcome to the 13th “Collecting Trip iReport” covering a 20-day insect collecting trip to the southwestern U.S. from June 20 to July 9, 2023. Joining me for the entire trip was Mike Arduser, a hymenopterist specializing in native bees with whom I’ve collected on and off for nearly 40 years! (For those who don’t know, Mike discovered what became the holotype of Acmaeodera chuckbellamyi, a species I described to honor my friend and mentor, the late Chuck Bellamy. That holotype remains the only known representative of the species.)The trip started with three days in the Oklahoma panhandle, where I checked traps that I’d placed a month earlier. We then collected for a couple of days in southern Colorado as we made our way west and spent 10 days collecting across southern Utah and northern Arizona. On our way back east, we spent three days in northern New Mexico and a couple of days in the Texas panhandle before making the long drive back to St. Louis on Day 20.
Alabaster Caverns State Park Woodward County, Oklahoma After an 8-hour drive from St. Louis I was rarin’ to go. Unfortunately, it was blazing hot and humid—so much so that I really wasn’t prepared for it. Nevertheless, I had a job to do, and that job was to do the first check on the insect “jug” traps that I set out last month. I hiked down into the canyon and was glad to see the first trap still hanging (I always worry about people molesting my traps, and if the people don’t do it the raccoons will). My happiness quickly turned to dread when I saw how many beetles it had captured—it was literally overflowing with Euphoria flower scarabs (both E. fulgida and E. sepulchralis)! Oh well, I’m out for three weeks and don’t have to be anywhere by anytime, so it’s not a problem however long it takes to count the traps. In addition to Euphoria, traps baited with sweet red wine (SRW) or a 50:50 mixture of SRW and pure ethanol (EtOH) also had a nice variety of Cerambycidae. The trap baited with EtOH only had far fewer Euphoria and Cerambycidae—consistent with what I saw in my trapping study last year in Missouri; however, I was surprised to see the SRW-baited trap perform as well as it did (more Euphoria and only slightly fewer Cerambycidae compared to the mixture). If it continues to perform this well, I may opt to using SRW only for these traps. The most exciting find was Trigonarthris atrata (one of each in the SRW and SRW/EtOH traps)—I’ve never collected this species, and it seems to be relatively uncommon throughout the south-central U.S. where it occurs.
Trigonarthris atrata (family Cerambycidae) taken in “jug trap” baited with 50:50 ethanol/sweet red wine in juniper/bumelia/hackberry forest in gypsum collapsed cave canyon.
Hiking out of the canyon was difficult—the path I chose was almost vertical, especially at the top, and carrying equipment and a net as well made keeping my balance precarious. At least the gypsum rock is very “tacky” and made it easy to get a secure foothold. Lastly, I set a white “bottle” trap in the gypsum/clay shortgrass prairie along Raptorsroost Trail above the canyon—hoping it catches Acmaeodera during the next month.
Escobaria vivipara (spinystar cactus—family Cactaceae) in gypsum-red clay shortgrass prairie.
Afterwards we went to the Canyon Campground and set up our camp, cooked some delicious burgers, and drank some beer (tasted so good considering how hot it was). I was, however, simply too exhausted to be motivated enough to setup the lights. Instead, we chilled for awhile before turning in and hoping for lower temperatures (which eventually did come down enough that we were able to get a good night’s sleep).
Calosoma marginale (family Carabidae) on the trunk of a large Juniperus virginiana (eastern red-cedar) greets us at our campsite.
Hexagenia limbata (family Ephemeridae) sub-imago attracted to light in our campground in juniper/bumelia/hackberry forest in collapsed gypsum cave canyon.
Day 2
We awoke to cloudy skies—a bit of a surprise, and as we we taking down camp it actually began to rain a bit. We hadn’t put the rain fly on the tent last night—hoping to maximize circulation because of the heat. I’m glad we didn’t get woken up at 3 am with rain coming down and have to quick put the rain fly over the tent in the middle of the night! After breaking down camp, I checked the Lindgren funnel trap that I placed in the juniper/bumelia/hackberry forest near the camp site the last time I was here and was happy to see it hadn’t been overrun by Euphoria (which I did not count or keep) but did have a few elaphidiines and Neoclytus. The find of the day, however, occurred while we were breaking down camp and I saw what I thought was a Dicerca sp. on the tent. I casually took a photo and then put it in a vial and took a closer look to decide if it was D. lurida or D. obscura. As I was looking at it, I noticed the impunctate pronotal midline and realized that it was not a Dicerca but a Poecilonota, and the shape and size suggested it was P. thureura, a species I had not collected since the first time I found it in 1980! What a fantastic find to start the day.
Poecilonota thureura (family Buprestidae) on my tent in juniper/bumelia/hackberry forest in collapsed gypsum cave canyon.
Gloss Mountain State Park MajorCounty, Oklahoma We were not optimistic as we drove back towards the Gloss Mountains—a thick cloud layer blanketed the sky, and the rain while taking down our campsite had us thinking we might be spending much of the day dodging rain. As we approached the state park, however—its iconic profile looming in the distance as we approached, a patch of sun appeared over the park; a welcome sight along with the much more reasonable temps compared to the oven we dealt with yesterday. Blooms were diverse and plentiful—I’ve never seen this area so much and green, and Mike got to work looking at them in search of bees. I would have loved to have done the same thing (except beetles), but with the business of trap-checking at hand (and six traps the check, at that!) I put my nose down and headed up the slope to the first set of traps near and on the top of the mesa.
“Stairway” up the the top of the mesa.
The SWR trap had suffered wind-throw—some of the beetles were on the ground below the trap; however, it must have happened very recently (not more than a couple days) because the beetles on the ground were still pliable and easily located/counted. Once again the traps were inundated with Euphoria flower scarabs, while Cerambycidae were almost non-existent but did consist of two more Trigonarthris atrata to double my series of this excellent find. The SRW/EtOH trap suffered negligible wind-throw and, like the previous, was inundated with Euphoria with only two Cerambycidae (Neoclytus acuminatus and N. mucronatum). The EtOH trap suffered the worst wind-throw, with a branch falling on it and dumping the entire contents. Again, this must have happened recently because all the beetles on the ground below the trap were still pliable and easily located/counted (again, mostly Euphoria). While I was atop the mesa, I set one white “bottle” trap in the gypsum/clay shortgrass prairie near the EtOH trap, and as I was doing this I collected an Onthophagus sp. on the ground in the mixed-grass prairie atop the mesa.
Trigonarthris atrata (family Cerambycidae) in “jug” trap baited with sweet red wine placed in soapberry/bumelia copse on south slope of gypsum/red clay mesa.
Epicauta immaculata (family Meloidae) on flower Oenethera serrulata (yellow sundrops) on slope of gypsum-capped clay mesa.
Back down on the slope, I encountered Mike, who had collected one Plinthocoelium suaveolens and seen a mating pair on the flowers of Sapindus drummondii; I checked for more periodically throughout the rest of the afternoon and didn’t see any, but I did collect a nice series of Trichodesbibalteatus off the flowers.
Plinthocoelium suaveolenssuaveolens (bumelia borer—family Cerambycidae) on flower Sapindus drummondii on clay slope of gypsum-capped mesa.
Back down in the plains below along the south edge of the park, I was disappointed to find that all three jug traps were wind-thrown and completely dumped with no possibility of data collection. Because the only trees in the area are short-statured mesquites, I clipped the traps directly to a branch, but the strong winds were able to “spin” the traps on their hooks. I reset all the traps, and to prevent a repeat of this I looped guide lines through the jug handle in several directions and tied them to the branches. Hopefully next time I’ll be able to collect data from this set of traps.
Jug trap secured with guide lines to prevent wind-throw.
While I was there, I set a white bottle trap in gypsum/clay mixed-grass prairie near the SRW trap, then found several Chrysobothris octocola and Actenodes mendax (new state record?!) and on a wind-thrown branch of Prosopis glandulosa. Back in the parking lot, I checked the mesquite (where many years ago I first found C. octocola and Plionoma suturalis (as new state records) and found several more of each as well as a single Acmaeodera sp. prob. mixta, all on dead branches of Prosopis glandulosa. By this time, I was exhausted and needed to eat something before heading back up the slope to check the soapberry flowers one last time before heading off to our next destination.
Actenodes mendax (family Buprestidae) on branch Prosopis glandulosa (honey mesquite) in clay/gypsum mixed-grass prairie.
Chlorochroa osborni (family Pentatomidae) on red clay mixed-grass prairie.
Beaver Dunes Park BeaverCounty, Oklahoma It took about two hours to drive here from Gloss Mountain State Park, and given the amount of time it took to process the traps there it was too late to do the same here. Instead, we got a few supplies in town and enjoyed a spectacular sunset as we setup camp and cooked dinner (ballpark brats!).
Sunset at Beaver Dunes Park.
Sunset at Beaver Dunes Park.
Day 3
We spent a good part of the morning curating specimens and updating our field notes from yesterday, then broke camp and headed out to check the traps. We did notice that temps were cooling rapidly and skies looking more ominous, and as we arrived at the site we began to hear rumblings of thunder. I decided to forge ahead but try to stay close in case the skies opened up. Winds were picking up as I reached the first trap (SRW), but I got it checked quickly as there were few beetles to deal with (but tons of moths!). I was frankly glad to see it was not overwhelmed with Euphoria flower scarabs, which would have meant much more time counting beetles. It had dropped but not spilled, and the bait bottle was laying nearby, and since the reservoir was full I considered the data not compromised. The SRW/EtOH trap was also full of moths, but in this case I dumped the contents into the strainer, reset the trap (still hanging but the bait bottle blown out), and brought the contents back to the car to count in case the skies opened up. It threatened to do so as I was counting, but I used the hatch as a shield (and took advantage of the lights it offered). In this case there were a few more Euphoria, but not the overwhelming numbers seen at the two sites further east— makes me wonder if we are right at the edge of the range for E. fulgida. Cerambycidae included 21 elaphidiines (I’m sure there are 3 or more species involved). After conditions began improving, I retrieved the EtOH trap contents and brought the contents back to the car for sorting/counting. The number of cerambycids was surprising (73—the highest of any trap so far on the trip), given that EtOH traps have consistently shown poorer efficacy during the course of this study. I won’t know whether to be excited about any of the cerambycids until I can do IDs, but again there appear to be at least three or more species involved. Before leaving, I set out a bottle trap for Acmaeodera in open sand dune prairie near a lot of flowers and near the SRW trap. Traps all checked and reset, and the rain, thunder, and lightning continuing to roll, we decided to head west!
Black Mesa State Park & vicinity CimarronCounty, Oklahoma We arrived at Black Mesa State Park mid-afternoon, and with the continued threat of rain we decided to setup camp while conditions were dry rather than waiting until later. Once done, we marveled at the amazing abundance and diversity of wildflowers in bloom—every time I’ve been here before the place has been bone dry! Given this, Mike decided to search for bees around the campground while I worked the traps I had placed in the area last month. There are two sets—one in the park in a canyon filled with hackberry and soapberry, and another north of the park at an interesting sandstone outcrop near Kenton with oaks and pines—unusual for the area! I decided to check the latter because I thought it had the better chance to produce something interesting. Boy, was that an understatement; as soon as I walked up to the SRW trap and looked inside, I saw it—a live Aethecerinus wilsonii walking over the hoards of Euphoria and other insects that had been attracted to the trap! I’ve been looking for this species since forever, and here was a big, beautiful male. I picked it out, dried it off a bit, and set it on a tree branch for a few photographs before getting down to counting the rest of the trap catch. This included 130 Euphoria fulgida (I thought they might be a different species at first, but then I determined that they are simply the western “fuscocyanea” form of the species—clearly I had not reached the western limit of the species at the previous spot!) and 30 elaphidiines. The SRW/EtOH trap was even more loaded with Euphoria and elaphidiines, but as expected the EtOH trap had lower numbers and diversity.
Aethecerinus wilsonii (family Cerambycidae) in “jug” trap baited with sweet red wine hanging in oak pine woodland on sandstone outcrop.
Euphoria fulgida (western “fuscocyanea” form—family Scarabaeidae). In “jug” trap baited with sweet red wine hanging in oak pine woodland on sandstone outcrop.
I was hoping I would have enough time to check the last set of traps before it got too late but decided doing so would be cutting things too close. I did decide, however, that I had time to set out the last Lindgren funnel trap in the North Canyon of the park and the last bottle trap at the Scenic Overlook. I placed the bottle trap first in an area with lots of wildflowers (where it will, hopefully, be visible to Acmaeodera visiting the flowers), then bushwhacked to a large cottonwood I’d spotted earlier in the North Canyon. When I reached the tree, I realized a hiking trail passed right by it, which would make the trap too vulnerable to vandals (amazing that, even out in nature, I have to worry about that), plus the understory around the tree was thick with poison ivy. I hiked instead up the canyon to the road and found a large hackberry off the trail where I could hang the trap discretely.
“Bottle” trap for trapping flower-visiting insects such as Acmaeodera (family Buprestidae).
Traps placed, I went back to the campground where Mike and I enjoyed cool temps, a nice warm campfire, and grilled-to-perfection strip steaks while admiring incredible evening skies!
Sunset in West Canyon Campground at Black Mesa State Park.
Enjoying a brew and the campfire at sunset.
Day 4
It rained overnight, but our tent worked to perfection and we slept well under cool nighttime temps. Mike had set out bowl traps at the campground for bees and while doing so encountered a Moneilema armatum mating pair in the flower of Opuntia phaeacantha. I’ve never seen an individual of this or any species of Moneilema in the flower of the host cactus! After breaking camp, we headed out to check the final set of traps, but on the way we stopped at the “Petrified Forest” to see what we might find on the spectacular blaze of wildflowers that the park is sporting right now. I imagine that such a spectacle is unusual for the area and that most years are not like this. Despite the abundance and diversity of bloom, there wasn’t a lot of corresponding insect activity. There are some iNaturalist records of two Tetraopes spp. from this area, but I found very little milkweed along the Bird Haven Trail leading off of the area and no beetles. I suspect it is still too early for them, as the plants that I did find were all very small.
Burnsius communis (common checkered-skipper—family Hesperiidae) on flower Senecio flaccidus (threadleaf ragwort) in shortgrass prairie.
Lycomorpha pholus (black-and-yellow lichen moth—family Erebidae) on flower of Senecio flaccidus (threadleaf ragwort) in shortgrass prairie.
Back at the “forest” I did find a single Acmaeodera in the mixta/immaculata complex on the flower of Engelmannia peristenia, a Trichiotinus texanus on the flower of Cirsium undulatum, and a rather darkly marked Batyle suturalis on the flower of Thelesperma magnicamporum.
Batyle suturalis (sutured longhorned beetle—family Cerambycidae) on flower of Thelesperma megapotamicum (rayless greenthread) in shortgrass prairie.
I also got a chuckle when I was photographing one of the petrified logs and Mike just then realized it was not a regular log that I was photographing!
Petrified log.
We then returned to the Canyon Overlook so I could check my traps. The floral diversity atop the overlook was just as amazing as down in the canyon, and as Mike set about searching for bees I got down to the business of checking the last set of traps. I expected results similar to the traps I’d checked last evening, and I was not surprised, with Euphoria fulgida “fuscocyanea” and elaphidiine Cerambycidae forming the bulk of the catch. I did, however, find not only some very interesting mantidflies (Climaciella brunnea) but a few individuals of the Polistes paper wasp species that must serve as the model for the mantidfly. I kept both, as this will be an interesting association to document.
Apiomerus spissipes (family Reduviidae) in flower of Opuntia phaeacantha (brown-spined pricklypear) in shortgrass prairie.
Copestylum caudatum (hairy-horned bromeliad fly—family Syrphidae) on flower of Thelesperma megapotamicum (rayless greenthread) in shortgrass prairie.
Before leaving the area, we stopped again at the sandstone outcrop north of the park where I’d checked my traps the day before. I didn’t see much going on then, but it had been cool and cloudy and I hoped today’s sunshine and warmer temps would bring out more insect activity. Mike actually did pretty well with bees at the spot, but I found almost nothing—beating the oaks yielded nothing, beating the pines yielded nothing, and beating the junipers yielded nothing. Only when I beat the mesquites did I find a few blister beetles and mesquite bugs (none of which I kept). I did find a single Lycus arizonensis on Asclepias aspera (antelope horn), which I thought seemed way out of range for the species. In fact, it is way out of the normal range (central Texas through New Mexico and Arizona), but another person has already recorded this species on iNaturalist from a location very near to this one. Given the lack of beetle activity (and Mike now satisfied with the bees he had picked up over the past two days in the area), we decided to head north into Colorado on our eventual way to Utah.
Nemognatha nigripennis (family Meloidae) on flower of Xanthisma spinulosum (spiny goldenweed) in shortgrass prairie.
Trichodes oresterus (family Cleridae) on flower on Thelesperma megapotamicum (rayless greenthread) in shortgrass prairie.
Brachystola magna (plains lubber grasshopper—family Romaleidae).
Vogel Canyon Picnic Area OteroCounty, Colorado The drive north into Colorado and towards Vogel Canyon took us through some quite remote areas, the state line crossing actually occurring on a gravel road. I last came here about ten years ago with Jeff Huether, and I thought it might be a good stop before spending the night on our way to Utah. By now temps were in the 90s and the winds were whipping strongly from the south, so I opted not to use the beating sheet and instead just carried an aerial net. Not long after hiking down the Overlook Trail I saw what I thought was an Eleodes clown beetle crawling on the ground and then doing its characteristic “headstand” when it saw me. I figured I’d take a photo, but as I was doing so I realized it had long antennae—and that it was actually a Moneilema cactus beetle (M. armatum to be precise)! Cactus beetles look very much like clown beetles, which I believe are models that the cactus beetles mimic (the former are noxious, but the latter are not), but I’ve never seen cactus beetles actually mimicking the clown beetles behaviorally! Of course, no amount of coaxing could convince the cactus beetle to resume his headstand mimicry, so I had to be content photographing it clinging to the ground. I believe it came from a patch of Opuntia polyacantha very near where I first saw it, and from that point in I searched not only this plant but also patches of a second species of pricklypear cactus (O. phaeacantha) as well as tree cholla (Cylindropuntia imbricata)—without success! I did note that other iNaturalist records of cactus beetles in southeastern Colorado were later than this date, so it seems it may still be a bit early for them.
As at Black Mesa State Park, I also checked lots and lots of Asclepias latifolia (broadleaved milkweed) for Tetraopes milkweed beetles but saw none (again, it’s probably a bit too early for them). As I was doing this, I noticed Cacama valvata (cactus dodgers) bolting from the chollas whenever I got too close to them, but I did manage to sneak up on one for a photo.
Cacama valvata (common cactus dodger—family Cicadidae) on Cylindropuntia imbricata (cholla) in juniper chaparral.
Frustratingly, the abundance and diversity of flowers here (the entire area around Oklahoma, Colorado, and Texas seems to have been inundated with rain this year) was void of insect activity—Mike did get some interesting bees at Escobaria cactus flowers, but for me beetle activity was almost zero. After reaching the end of the Overlook Trail and looking at the petroglyphs (disappointing, as vandalism has made it impossible to discern the original etchings), I hiked back along the Canyon Trail and—finally—doubled my beetle count for the spot when I found a Typocerus octonotatus (not at all uncommon) on the flower of Thelesperma megapotamicum! Not much else was seen during the remainder of the hike, save for an Efferia sp. robber fly holding as prey a green lacewing (family Chrysopidae).
Overlook Trail.
Efferia sp. (family Asilidae) with chrysopid (green lacewing) prey in juniper chaparral.
Back up at the trailhead, we decided Colorado is not where it’s happening right now and in the morning we’ll head towards Utah. On the way out, we saw a gorgeous Coluber constrictor flaviventris (yellow-bellied racer) crossing the road so stopped to take photographs. It was not very cooperative, but I managed to get a few good (enough) shots of it.
Distant thunderclouds.
Coluber constrictor flaviventris (eastern yellow-bellied racer—family Colubridae) in juniper chaparral.
Rocky Ford, Colorado There weren’t any public land campgrounds in or around Vogel Canyon as far as we could determine, so we hoteled it in Rocky Ford near La Junta a few miles north of the canyon. The High Chaparral Inn was comically small town, and finding something to eat for dinner turned into a major fiasco due to the lateness of the hour. After a fruitless drive north of town and back, we ended up having to sit for half an hour in the parking lot of the Sonic right across the street from the hotel just to get a burger—without a milkshake because the ice cream machine was broken!
High Chaparral Inn—Rocky Ford, Colorado.
Day 5
If last night’s dinner fiasco represented the worst of road tripping, the following morning coffee stop represented the very best. Actually, I’ve found some of the best coffee in the smallest of towns out west, and “The Coffea (not a typo) Shop” had it all—casual atmosphere, fun trinkets, delicious burritos, darling baristas, and most importantly incredible coffee, bold in flavor and brewed strong. It was so good I bought a pound of bulk to bring home with me.
The Coffea Shop—Rocky Ford, Colorado.
The drive west along Hwy 50 later that afternoon was one of the most scenic I’ve ever encountered, and it all started in Cañón City at the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. A Tyrannosaurus rex clad in yellow tennis shoes welcomed us to the dinosaur theme that dominates the western U.S. Driving west, we oohed and aahed at every turn as the road followed the twists and turns of the Arkansas River amidst steep canyon walls until eventually we made it over Monarch Pass.
Yellow tennis shoe clad Tyrannosaurus rex—Cañón City, Colorado.
5 mi SE Montrose MontroseCounty, Colorado Last year Rick Westcott sent me label information for an undescribed species in the genus Nanularia—a very unusual location for a genus whose known members reside almost exclusively in California (the exception being the relatively widespread N. brunnea and the enigmatic N. pygmaea, the latter still known only from the unique holotype labeled simply “Texas”).
Eriogonum pelinophilum habitat near Montrose, Colorado.
The specimen was collected in mid-July on Eriogonum pelinophilum (all species in the genus seem to feed exclusively on plants in this genus), but our path to Utah took us right through the city of Montrose so I decided to give it a shot. I’m pretty sure I found the locality (despite the somewhat imprecise label data—“8 km SE Montrose, 1875m”). The spot was small, but the elevation was spot on and—more importantly—there was lots of Eriogonum that seemed to be restricted to just that area. I searched the plants thoroughly, and while I did collect a few leaf beetles (a small series of Saxinus sp. and a single Neochlamisus sp.) and photographed a stunning clearwing moth (Synanthedon polygoni) associated with the plant, I did not see any Nanularia. For now, I’ll file this spot away and keep it in mind for the next time I happen to pass through this area—hopefully around mid-July!
Synanthedon polygoni (buckwheat root borer moth—family Sesiidae) on Eriogonum pelinophilum.
Hyles lineata (white-lined sphinx—family Sphingidae) caterpillar on Eriogonum pelinophilum.
27 mi ENE Gateway MesaCounty, Colorado As we continued in our way west towards Utah, we passed through a spectacular canyon in Colorado’s “mesa country” with towering, jagged red bluffs lining either side of the highway. As we gained elevation and passed over the summit, conditions suddenly seemed greener and we started seeing lots of wildflowers in bloom along the roadsides. This is always a good sign for potential insect collecting, and if even greater interest to me were the stands of Quercus gambelii (Gambel’s oak) along the fencerows—a good host for buprestid beeltes (Brachys rileyi being the one I’d be most interested in finding). We found a turnout and pulled over to inspect the wildflowers and see what we might find. Mike found bees coming to Penstemon (foxglove), but I did not see beetles of any kind visiting the various flowers present. I then turned my attention to the Gambel’s oak and got out the long-handled net to works the high branches—collecting a nice series of Cyrtolobus treehoppers, Curculio weevils, and other miscellaneous beetles but no buprestids. I also collected a few Curculio weevils off the Cercocarpus (mountain mahogany) trees growing alongside the oaks. By now it was nearly 7 pm, so we continued west with the goal of making it to Gateway and finding lodging.
A very scenic Hwy 141 in western Colorado.
John Brown Canyon MesaCounty, Colorado We had expected to find lodging in the town of Gateway, but it was nothing more than a closed convenience store and a few private residences. Fortunately, we found this spectacular canyon just outside of town with camping allowed.
Mike enjoys a brew while dinner cooks.
Me enjoying our campfire in John Brown Canyon.
A phenomenal night sky!
Hesperumia sulphuraria (sulphur moth—family Geometridae) at light in juniper/pinyon chaparral.
Day 6
We broke camp early and continued west. Once we drove up to the top of the canyon and breached the rim, the morning light gave us a chance to look back and see exactly how spectacular the canyon was where we’d spent the night.
John Brown Canyon—Mesa County, Colorado.
above Hideout Canyon Manti-La Sal National Forest GrandCounty, Utah It was another morning of driving through spectacular canyonlands as we made out way to the next planned locality. Road conditions were tough—it took us an hour and a half to drive the 30 mile distance over incredibly rocky and steep terrain, and in fact we were stopped short just a mile from our destination by a rock ledge drop-off that was a bit too much for my loaded-to-max-capacity Bronco Sport to handle without risk of damage (a full-sized Bronco probably would have had no problem). The habitat, however, was surely what we were looking for—high elevation pinyon pine and juniper woodland, the former tree being the probable host of the recently described Buprestis pinyoni—so we parked the off the road and began to explore.
Pinyon/juniper woodland.
There was—again—a diversity and abundance of bloom for Mike to look for bees and me to look for Acmaeodera, but I first began by beating a dying pinyon (Pinus edulis) and promptly got a small series of Enoclerus sp. Beating other dying and dead pinyons throughout the course of the afternoon would produce more Enoclerus and also several acanthocine longhorned beetles and a Monochamus clamator. Besides the junipers, which produced nothing, the only other truly woody plants were Cercocarpus sp. (mountain mahogany) and what I would later determine to be Amelanchier utahensis (Utah serviceberry), the latter producing a single very tiny clerid. Opuntia fragilis (brittle pricklypear cactus) were blooming nicely, and after not seeing anything in the blooms at first I eventually started picking up Trichodes ornatus and Acmaeodera bowditchi.
Acmaeodera bowditchi (family Buprestidae) on flower of Opuntia fragilis (brittle pricklypear cactus) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Among the diversity of flowering plants present, the only other one that I saw attracting beetles was Tetraneuris acaulis (stemless four-nerved daisy), from which I picked a few A. bowditchi and also some smaller Acmaeodera (perhaps two species). I did do some beating of living Pinus edulis, not expecting much but alway hopeful, and got only a couple of Dichelonyx sp. scarabs. The collecting was not fast and furious, but I encountered different things with enough frequency to keep me motivated and ended up spending much of the afternoon there. Eventually we decided to leave, having sufficient series of what we’d found and not seeing anything new, and began the long, rocky, bouncy trek out of the wilderness.
Trichodes ornatus (ornate checkered beetle—family Cleridae) on flower of Erigeron flagellaris (trailing fleabane) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Euphydryas sp. (family Nymphalidae) on flower of Tetratneuris acaulis (stemless four-nerved daisy) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
On the way towards the last stop, I’d noticed a large Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) along the side of the road with several large, recently-dead branches on the roadside—apparently injured by heavy machinery (perhaps a road scraper). I’d passed it by on the way up, anxious to reach our destination, but I wasn’t about to pass it by on the way out (and it’s fortunate that I stopped). I saw little on the branches at first, but after careful inspection of the trunk (hoping to see Buprestis pinyoni) I noticed several small Enoclerus sp. running rapidly upon it—a sure sign that the tree was the right stage for attracting woodboring beetles. Then I saw it—sitting right on the trunk at a spot I must have looked at before, a nice big Dicerca tenebrosa; not a rare species but one I’ve never collected before. I searched the trunk and all branches again carefully and did not find another, but I did pick up a few of the Enoclerus. My curiosity quenched (and feeling a bit vindicated for wanting to stop), we continued on our way.
Dicerca tenebrosa tenebrosa (family Buprestidae) on trunk of injured Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Day 7
Our destination last night was Sandthrax Campground. It was a beautiful primitive campground in a gorgeous sandstone canyon lined with large cottonwoods, but it was not what we expected since it lacked pinyon pines—the host of same beetle I was looking for at the previous spot and recorded from this locality in the type series. Perhaps the specimen is mislabeled, or perhaps it was able to fly a long distance and happened to be picked up by an entomologist camping at the campground—who knows! Nevertheless, we had a wonderful campfire after we arrived and enjoyed comfortable sleeping temperatures through the night.
Morning in Sandthrax Campground.
After briefly looking around in the morning and not seeing enough (anything!) of interest to warrant spending time there, we packed up and started making our way to the area around Page, Arizona. It would take all day, as we left open the possibility of stopping anywhere that caught our fancy along the way.
Hog Springs Recreation Area GarfieldCounty, Utah The first such place was Hog Springs Recreation Area, just a few miles down the road. It was a chance to explore up close the stunning red sandstone canyon leading down to the Colorado River as it flowed through Glen Canyon National Recreation Area.
Hog Springs Recreation Area.
There was a lot of Sphaeralcea, mostly past bloom but with still enough individual blossoms to make them attractive. Diadasia sp. bees were utilizing the flowers, but did not see any of the Buprestidae or Cerambycidae that utilize Sphaeralcea and that I’d hoped to see.
Diadasia sp. (family Apidae) in flower of Sphaeralcea sp. (globe mallow) in cottonwood canyon.
I walked up the canyon a ways and saw a Trimerotropispallidipennis (pallid-winged grasshopper) and a largish and very skittish lizard that I take to be Sceloporus magister (desert spiny lizard) that let me take only two photos of it (and not very good ones at that) before it scampered up a large cottonwood tree out of view. The lack of insect activity was a bit concerning, especially considering that our previous location also had little to offer, so we continued our way with hopes of better collecting ahead.
Canyon Trail—Hog Springs Recreation Area.
Trimerotropis pallidipennis (pallid-winged grasshopper—family Acrididae) on sandstone in cottonwood canyon.
Sceloporus magister (desert spiny lizard—family Phrynosomatidae) in cottonwood canyon.
We passed through some of the most amazing canyon scenery that either one of us had ever seen on our way down through Glen Canyon National Recreation Area to a raging Colorado River. I’ve visited southern Utah briefly before and knew that the landscape was incredible, but what we saw today was otherworldly!
Hwy 95 passes through spectacular canyons.
After climbing back up on the other side we reached pinyon/juniper woodland, and it became increasingly impossible for me to resist stopping every time I saw a pinyon pine with light green to brown needles—meaning the tree was dying or had recently died and was, thus, ripe for infestation by woodboring beetles!
Harmony Flat San JuanCounty, Utah We finally decided to stop in an area called Harmony Flat, where we saw not only scattered dead trees within the woodland but also low roadcuts boasting a bit of floral bloom. I looked at the blooms first, hoping that at this higher elevation I might see species of Acmaeodera on the flowers, but none were seen (nor were beetles of any kind for that matter—only bees, which Mike did find of interest!).
Dianthidium (Dianthidium) sp. (family Megachilidae) on flower of Heterotheca sp. (showy goldenaster).
Diadasia diminuta complex (globemallow chimney bees—family Apidae) on flower of Heterotheca sp. (showy goldenaster).
I turned my attention to checking out some of the dead/dying Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pibe) in the area. The first one I approached had a big, recently wind-thrown branch lying underneath an otherwise healthy tree, and when I started inspecting it I quickly found a Chrysobothris sp. on one of the branches. More careful inspection of the entire branch failed to turn up any additional individuals, so I turned my attention to an older dead branch lying underneath the more recently fallen one. I did not expect to see beetles in the branch, but I thought maybe there would be some still inside of it and used my knife to cut into the wood and hopefully follow galleries to their still-resident inhabitant. Very quickly I found a small Pogonocherus sp. in its pupal chamber—a fresh and perfectly formed adult but not yet emerged from the wood. Sadly, the only other beetle I found within the wood was a dead Chrysobothris sp. that had successfully pupated and neared adult emergence but then died before completing such. I searched for additional dead/dying pinyon pines but encountered fencing that prevented me from reaching those that I could see until spotting another one (living but with a few dying branches) near where I’d parked the car—along the way collecting a Cryptocephalus sp. that dropped off of an Artemisa sp. (sagebrush) as I approached. The dying branches produced only Enocleruslecontei, a small series of which I collected. Finally, after checking in with Mike, who was having decent luck collecting bees off the blooms along the roadside, I spotted one fairly large dying pinyon line in the distance and went to sample it. The tree itself produced only more E. lecontei, which I did not feel the need to collect more of, but then I noticed a largish branch that had broken off earlier and seemed to be in perfect condition for attracting woodboring beetle adults. This was born out when I collected first one and then another Chrysobothris sp. (not the same species as the previous individual) on the main branch portion. Having spent a good hour at the site, and still needing to reach an area with cellular service to contact Paul Kaufman—another collector planning to meet up with us, we decided to continue on ahead.
Chrysobothris sp. (family Buprestidae) on branch dying Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Enoclerus lecontei (blackbellied clerid—family Cleridae) beaten from branch of dying Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
The drive toward Page, Arizona took us off the plateau and down Moki Doug Way Grade—a terrifyingly steep but incredibly scenic drop into the lowlands below.
Moki Doug Way Grade.
Approaching Mexican Hat, we finally got into cellular service and heard from Paul, who had just passed through town and was approaching the grade (we apparently crossed paths shortly after coming down the grade). We made arrangements to meet and then caravanned to our next planned stop to look for a tiny buprestid species called Acmaeodera navajo.
8 mi E Page CoconinoCounty, Arizona Conditions were incredibly windy, and while Mike did find a few bees there were no beetles of interest (or even not of interest!). There was Sphaeralcea (globe mallow) in bloom (a known flower host for A. navajo), though it was a bit past its prime, and I hoped the lack of almost any insect activity was not a bad omen for the area. Fortunately I had other localities recorded for finding this species, so we packed up and moved onto the next one.
Near Page, Arizona.
15 mi S Page CoconinoCounty, Arizona The area east of Page not producing any of the Acmaeodera navajo I had hoped to find, we next came to this spot south of town. It was more of the same, however, with brutal winds and no beetles of interest despite the presence of Sphaeralcea sp. (globe mallow) in bloom. I did find Trirhabdanitidicollis on Ericameria nauseosa (rabbitbrush), a few of which I collected.
Trirhabda nitidicollis (rabbitbrush leaf beetle—family Chrysomelidae) on Ericameria nauseosa (rabbitbrush) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
While I was photographing the beetle, a diminutive Brephidium exilis (western pygmy blue) flitted around and landed on the plant. I managed to photograph it (but missed the focus!).
Brephidium exilis (western pygmy blue—family Lycaenidae) on Ericameria nauseosa (rabbitbrush) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Since it seemed not much was happening in the area, the three of us discussed our options for what to do next. We considered skipping the other localities I had recorded for the area and just driving on to the area north of Kanab where we planned to collect next. However, it would be approaching dark when we arrived (not fun setting up camp in the dark), so we opted to hotel it in Page instead. Since the other planned localities in the area were outside of town and on the way to Kanab, we could check them in the morning and move on if nothing was happening. Driving into town towards our hotel, we happened upon a restaurant called “Gone West” and were pleasantly surprised at the delicious amber ale on draft, excellent fish and chips, and live music covering some pretty cool songs—most with a bit of an electric guitar bent (much to my liking!).
Day 8
Hwy 89 at State Line CoconinoCounty, Arizona We awoke to calm conditions with no trace of the battering winds we experienced yesterday, and after coffee, a bite to eat, and stocking up on provisions we navigated to another locality west of town where Acmaeodera navajo has been collected (right at the state line between Arizona and Utah).
Arizona/Utah State Line.
Literature records indicate that adults are attracted to flowers of Sphaeralcea, Linum, and Opuntia, and we quickly began finding blooming plants of the first two. Almost immediately we began finding Acmaeodera pubiventris lanata—a species I’ve collected only sparingly before, on flowers of Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia, and after a bit of time I finally found my first A. navajo(!) on the same along with an occasional A. immaculata on. On the south part of the loop (up one side of the road and down the other), there were scattered plants of Helianthus ambigua, on the flowers of which we found a few individuals of the same three species. By the time I finished the loop, I wasn’t quite satisfied with the sparing numbers of specimens I had collected, especially of A. navajo, so I did another loop. During this time, insect activity had picked up considerably, and I collected more than enough of all three species for my needs.
Acmaeodera navajo (family Buprestidae) on flower of Helianthus anomalus.
Acmaeodera pubiventris lanata (family Buprestidae) on flower of Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia (gooseberryleaf globemallow).
Acmaeodera immaculata (family Buprestidae) on flower of Helianthus anomalus.
I also took the chance to cross the state line so I could label some specimens from Utah (Kane Co.), collecting a few A. pubiventris lanata and a single A. navajo on flowers of S. grossulariifolia.
I think we probably arrived at the spot just as the insects were starting to become active (~10 am), and over the course of the next two hours their activity really picked up. At any rate, full collecting bottles has a way of replenishing enthusiasm for the hunt, and we headed towards the next spot full of optimism about our chances of success. POSTSCRIPT: Mike found a live male Prionus sp. in the door-well of our vehicle. I doubt that it is really from this locality, but rather that it flew into the car at a previous site a result of being attracted to residual prionic acid from lures that I have had previously. For now I will place it with this locality but reassess which of the previous localities it might have come from after identification of the species.
23 mi NW Page KaneCounty, Utah There exists a very old record of Nanularia brunnea in the University of California—Davis collection from this locality. It is a species I’ve never collected, despite living for five years in California—part of the range of this, the most widespread and commonly encountered species in the genus. I was heartened to see its host plant—Eriogonum inflatum—as soon as I got out of the vehicle, and the plant appeared to be common along a sandy 2-track paralleling the highway. Paul walked one way and I walked the other, and almost immediately Paul came back showing me something he’d collected on the stem of one of the plants—it was, indeed, N. brunnea! My motivation now sky high, we continued to look at the plants while working our way west along the highway. At one point, the stand thinned out and confined itself to just along the 2-track, so Paul continued west and I turned around to re-examine the more extensive stand of plants. As it turned out, I should have been more patient and continued along with Paul, as he eventually found three more individuals while I found none. He offered to let me have one, but I was determined to see and collect the species for myself, so I returned to the area where he had seen them and eventually found it for myself. I found three individuals—one crawling along the bottom of a low branch of the plant and two more sitting on the stem just below the lowest branch point (the latter also dropping as soon as I saw them but, fortunately, seen on and recovered from the ground). Paul was happy that I’d succeeded (not only was it my target for the site, but it also meant that he didn’t have to give me one of his specimens!). It may have taken well over two hours for me to find the first individual, but the time spent searching up to that point was not fruitless—also present and blooming at the site was Sphaeralcea ambigua, and on its flowers I found occasional individuals of the three species of Acmaeodera I’d collected at the previous spot (A. navajo, A. pubiventris lanata, and A. immaculata). Also present on the Sphaeralcea were a few individuals of Amannus sp. (pectoralis or vittiger), neither of which I’ve ever collected before. In this regard, I was able to repay Paul the favor, as he had not seen this species while we were there. I offered to give him one of mine for another specimen of Nanularia, a deal he readily accepted! A small series of my target for this spot now in the bottle, we set our sites on the next location and next target species.
Amannus sp. (family Cerambycidae) on flower of Sphaeralcea ambigua (apricot globemallow).
Kitchen Corral Wash Rd Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument Kane County, Utah Another target species for the trip is Chrysobothris nelsoni, a species associated with Eriogonum and described from various localities in southern Utah but mostly near the Coral Pink Sand Dune system near Kanab. We plan to visit that area eventually, but part of the type series was collected at this spot, which was not too far out of the way as we continued west, and given the success we’ve already had today and that we still had a good amount of daylight left before reaching Kanab, I decided to give the area a look. It was a long drive over sometimes rough, sometimes sandy roads to reach the location, but the scenery of carved canyons was just spectacular!
Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument.
The pinyon/juniper woodland had some small “dune-ish” areas of sand within it, but I didn’t encounter any Eriogonum plants or any of the more extensive sand areas that I expected would be needed to support stands of the plant. As I searched the area, I didn’t encounter many flowering plants, but I did see a couple of Opuntia aurea in bloom (yellow form) and collected Trichodes ornatus and a few of the hoards of nitidulids that congregate in the flowers of plants this genus, and I also found a single Acmaeodera diffusa on the flower of a lone blooming Sphaeralcea parvifolia plant. Beating was only somewhat more productive—just one Dichelonyx sp. and a curculionoid were found while beating the branches of living Pinus edulis; however, I did find a few Chrysobothris spp. on a dead P. edulis—two smaller ones that may be C. cuprascens beating one of the branches and a larger one of the “sculptured group” on the trunk itself. Ever on the lookout for Buprestis pinyoni, I spotted a largish P. edulis cadaver with Buprestis-sized emergence holes in one of the remaining large branches and began chopping into the branch in hopes of finding a Buprestis cadaver. I didn’t find an intact cadaver, but I did find a single Buprestis sp. elytron fragment in the branch and collected it hoping I will be able to determine the species. Mike found a variety of bees, but he was most excited about a pollen-collecting wasp in the genus Pseudomasaris that he had collected from the flowers of Lupinus sp. I remembered this as I later walked by the plant and saw a large wasp fly from it out of the corner of my eye, instinctively swinging my net and remarkably capturing another individual that Mike was happy to have.
Vanessa sp. (family Nymphalidae) on Sphaeralcea sp.
Opuntia aurea (golden pricklypear cactus—family Cactaceae) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
While the small dune areas did not produce C. nelsoni or the Eriogonum plants they feed on, we did find a couple of nice large Eleodes beetles, one E. obscura sulcipennis and one E. caudifera, crawling across the sand.
Eleodes obscura sulcipennis (family Tenebrionidae) crossing small sand dune in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Eleodes caudifera (family Tenebrionidae) crossing small sand dune in pinyon/juniper woodland.
The drive back out through the canyon was just as spectacular as the drive in, but this time we had an added obstacle to contend with—an angry bovine! We came upon the big, black bull standing in the middle road, and he very clearly took our approaching vehicle as a challenge! We tried slowly moving to the far side of the road, but he moved as well to block us—tail twitching as he continued to stare us down! All we could do was wait until he got bored enough and slowly strolled off the road and into the brush, at which time we gunned it a bit going through in case he changed his mind and wished to resume the stand off!
Ponderosa Grove Campground Kane County, Utah Mike and I had planned to camp in Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park, but Paul mentioned a BLM (Burrau of Land Management) campground north of the state park that sounded like a much better option—not only was it less likely to be a crowded, RV parking lot, but we would be able to collect insects with no permit requirements. When we arrived at the campground, our expectations were not only met but greatly exceeded! It was a beautiful campground, with widely spaced sites located within a grove of large, stately ponderosa pines (hence the name).
Ponderosa Grove Campground.
Our campsite sign—note the tiger beetle!
After setting up camp and cooking dinner (steak!), I opted to gather firewood instead of setting up my lights as temperatures were already tumbling below the threshold for longhorned beetles. Paul, however, decided to set up his lights anyway (both ultraviolet and mercury vapor), and I’m glad he did—a nice number of Polyphylla uteana came to the lights, more than enough for both he and I to each collect a small series for our collections.
Sunset at our campsite.
Venus shines brightly in the western evening sky.
Day 9
Hancock Rd Kane County, Utah Sleeping temps were delicious last night, and the crisp air made made the morning coffee routine especially enjoyable. I had two targets for this general area—Chrysobothris nelsoni and Xylotrechus rameyi, both described recently from nearby localities by my friend and fellow coleopterophile Ron Alten. Ron had given me some locations and tips for finding the two species, and my plan for the day was to visit the various localities and hope that my combination of timing and experience would yield success. This was the first of the localities I had marked for C. nelsoni, but from the start it didn’t feel “right”—pinyon/juniper woodland with little of the open sand that seemed needed for stands of Eriogonum host plants. Nevertheless, one never knows what else they might find as they explore an area, so we gave the area a good look. There was Sphaeralcea present, but all of it was past bloom and yielded no beetles. I also found some recently windthrown branches of juniper that I hoped might yield woodboring beetles, but again none were found. The only beetle I did find was a small tenebrionid walking in the sand. Fortunately, I was able to get ahold of Ron by phone, who advised me to go closer to the dunes—not in the state park, but in the BLM lands north of the park. I should have guessed this would be the case and thanked Ron for his help, then headed back to the west a few miles where we had seen the dunes approaching the highway.
Habitat along Hancock Rd.
Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area Kane County, Utah The northernmost extent of the sand dunes cross the highway at this location, so we decided to stop here to see if we could find the Eriogonum host for Chrysobothris nelsoni—and find it we did (the host, not the beetle). In fact, not only was E. alatum, the recorded host for the species, abundant, but there were several other species of Eriogonum present as well. I spent quite a bit of time in the dunes searching the Eriogonum, focusing on E. alatum but also paying attention to the other species I was seeing (especially E. inflatum, a known host for other buprestids such as Nanularia brunnea), but no amount of searching turned up the beetle. I began to wonder if I was too late—most records of the species are from May and it was now the end of June. I also wondered if I had the proper search image—Ron had told me that the beetles would be on the basal leaves rather than up on the stems. Could they be underneath? I lifted the leaves on several plants as I looked, but this slowed things down considerably. After over an hour on the dunes without success I decided to check back in with the other guys and worked my way back to the roadside.
Sand dune habitat at Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area.
As I walked toward the car, I noticed Sphaeralcea parvifolia blooming abundantly along the roadside in a stretch of pinyon juniper woodland and collected a number of Acmaeodera diffusa on the flowers. Back at the vehicles, Mike was busy collecting bees from flowers in a small wet meadow surrounded by the dunes—I swept through the meadow thinking there may be sedges off which I might find Taphrocerus, but all I found was a single A. diffusa and a curculionoid. Mike had, however, found a single Anthaxia (Haplanthaxia) caseyi on the flower of Hymenopappus filifolius in the nearby sand dunes; so I spent a bit of time searching the same in hopes of finding more. None were found, however—a few miscellaneous beetles being the only things I collected off the flowers. When I returned to the vehicles, I encountered Paul taking shelter under the shade of a large ponderosa pine at the edge of the dune—he also had had no success finding C. nelsoni, and our hopes of finding the species dimmed further.
Satyrium behrii (Behr’s hairstreak—family Lycaenidae) on flower of Hymenopappus filifolium in sand dune habitat.
Before heading to potential localities for our next target, I wanted to stop at a roadside pull off along Hancock Rd that looked like it could be interesting—pinyon/juniper woodland at the edge of the dunes and bordering open sagebrush chaparral. I thought more insects might be out compared to this morning at the first stop. Unfortunately, the results were similar, with not much in bloom although I did find a few Acmaeodera diffusa and one Meloidae on the flower of Hymenopappus filifolius—one of the few flowering plants we found in the area.
Undetermined blister beetle (family Meloidae) on flower of Hymenopappus filifolium (fineleaf woollywhite) in sand dune habitat.
5 mi S Mt. Carmel Junction Kane County, Utah Having failed in our attempt to find Chrysobothris nelsoni, we turned our attention to another target we had for the area, Xylotrechus rameyi—also described by Ron Alten with the type and paratypes taken at several nearby localities. This was one of them, and the grove of Quercus gambelii (Gambel oak) which the paratype series had been collected on amidst the pinyon/juniper stands dominating the area confirmed that we were at the right spot. I spent a fair bit of time beating the lower branches of the oaks—without success, and Paul also had no success beating the oaks on the other side of the small turn off from the highway. For awhile I turned my attention to the flowers of Hymenopappus filifolius (fineleaf woollywhite) that were abundant in the area, collecting a few Acmaeodera diffusa from them, but eventually I turned my attention back to the oaks to give X. rameyi another shot by using the tropics net to better sample the higher branches that I hadn’t reached with the beating sheet. This yielded a single Agrilus sp. and a few other miscellaneous insects but still no X. rameyi. As I was sweeping the oaks with the tropics net, I encountered a pretty little pricklypear cactus in bloom that proved to be Opuntia aurea, off which I collected more A. diffusa. By now we’d been in the field all day and were feeling a bit exhausted, and failing to find either of our desired targets further decreased motivation, so we decided to make an ice run into town and take another shot at X. rameyi at the nearby type locality just outside of town.
Acmaeodera diffusa (family Buprestidae) on flower of Hymenopappus filifolium (fineleaf woollywhite) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
2 mi S Mt. Carmel Junction Kane County, Utah The type of Xylotrechus rameyi was reared from infested Acer negundo (boxelder maple) collected at this site, so we came here to look for boxelders that might be harboring adults of the species. Unfortunately, no boxelder trees were found anywhere in the area—in fact, the only trees of any kind that were seen was a few Populus fremontii (Fremont’s cottonwood). Failing to find any boxelder, I started looking for other flowering plants, but none were found except an isolated stand of Asclepias speciosa hosting a few large scoliid wasps, which I collected and gave to Mike. We decided to travel further down the river to try to see if boxelder occurred elsewhere but soon encountered a private property sign preventing further progress. By now it was getting late enough that we decided to head back to the campground to process the day’s catch and prepare dinner. It seemed the day would end without success on either of the day’s targets.
Habitat along Elephant Gap Rd.
Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area Kane County, Utah When we got back to the campground, I looked at the dunes across the road and felt like I had to give Chrysobothris nelsoni one more shot. The season for it may have been late, but I reasoned that sooner or later I was bound to run into a straggler. If nothing else, I could cut into dead plants from the previous season in hopes of finding a reasonably intact cadaver from an adult that had failed to emerge this year.
Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Área—Kane Co., Utah.
As I was walking the dunes I collected a few bees on yellow form flowers of Opuntia aurea to give to Mike and continued looking (admittedly rather casually) at the Eriogonum alatum host plants dotting the dunes.
Scabrethia scabra (Badlands mule-ears) in sand dune habitat.
I’d been on the dunes for a while when suddenly the phone range—it was Ron Alten asking if I’d been successful in finding C. nelsoni after we’d talked in the morning. I confessed that I had not but took the moment to verify with him that I was looking at the correct host plant. He described it as a tall, single-stemmed, plant with a branching inflorescence and a basal rosette of elongated leaves. This increased my confidence that I was looking at the correct plants, and to confirm this I walked up to one of the plants to describe it to him. We had just begun discussing where on the plant the beetles occur when I looked at the basal rosette of leaves of the plant I’d walked up to, and there it was sitting right there—a bright metallic green beetle that clearly had to be C. nelsoni! I yelled out “I’ve got it!” and described it to Ron to assure him that I had, indeed, found the species, and then we marveled at the irony of finding my first individual at the very moment I was on the phone with the person who described it telling me how to find it!
Chrysobothris nelsoni (family Buprestidae) on basal leaf of living Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat) in sand dune habitat.
Chrysobothris nelsoni (family Buprestidae) on basal leaf of living Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat) in sand dune habitat.
Success now in hand, I thanked Ron for his help and for checking back with me (I may have given up without finding the species had he not called me back) and continued my now much more deliberate search of other plants in the area. It would take another hour to find the second adult—again, sitting down on the basal rosette of leaves, but in the meantime I pulled several dead plants and found evidence of the larval workings in the crown of the plant.
Split plant view of damage by larvae of Chrysobothris nelsoni (family Buprestidae) in taproot of Eriogonum alatum (winged buckwheat) in sand dune habitat.
After finding the second individual, I reasoned that the setting sun made the prospect of finding additional individuals too low to warrant continuing the search and started heading back to the campground (anxious as heck to tell Paul and Mike the news!). Along the way, I found another Eleodes caudifera—apparently a male based on its highly elongated apical elytral projections—walking across sand.
Eleodes caudifera (family Tenebrionidae) taken in sand dune habitat.
Ponderosa Grove Campground Kane County, Utah Paul elected not to set up his lights at the campground, but rather bring them to the dunes across the road. The brightening moon and rapidly cooling evening temperatures, however, killed any desire I may have had to do the same. Instead, Mike and I chose to enjoy a few brews and dine on bratwurst cooked over an open flame while admiring the brightly moonlit western sky with its marvelous views of Venus and the Big Dipper. The next morning I found an Asemum sp. cerambycid dead on the floor inside my tent—apparently it had flown in the night before (perhaps following my flashlight) and then gotten stepped on.
The Big Dipper and the North Star a stand out in the night sky.
Day 10
Moquith Mountain Wilderness Study Area Kane County, Utah Paul had planned to head back to Phoenix this morning while Mike and I headed further west. However, given my success late yesterday in finding Chrysobothris nelsoni still out we decided to spend a bit more time this morning to see if we could get some specimens for Paul and a few more for me. We broke down camp to give more time for temperatures to warm and the beetles to become active, then walked back over to the dunes across the road. After a quick tutorial session on what the plants look like and where the beetles could be found, we split up and checked plants in different areas of the dunes. It took an hour before I found the first adult of the day—sitting on the basal rosette of leaves just as both of the adults I encountered yesterday were doing. After another half-hour I saw an adult fly from a plant I was approaching, but I was able to chase it down and net it before it escaped. The last beetle I would see during the morning almost escaped as well, but I was able to secure it from its perch in the basal rosette of leaves. With three more specimens in hand, I decided that I had an acceptable series of adults and headed back to the campground, and when I got there Mike told me that Paul also had been successful (finding five individuals!) and had already left for Phoenix. Mission accomplished, we began what would be a mostly driving day to eventually reach Leeds Creek Canyon near St. George in far southwestern Utah.
Litaneutria sp. (ground mantis—family Mantidae) in sand dune.
Morsea sp. (monkey grasshoppers—family Eumastacidae) in sand dune.
Tradescantia occidentalis (prairie spiderwort, western—family Commelinaceae) in sand dune habitat.
The day was one of the most spectacular “transfer” days I’ve ever had on a collecting trip—our route took us right through the heart of Zion National Park! I knew of Zion’s reputation as one of Utah’s most stunning of national parks, but I really wasn’t prepared for just how stunning it is—massively expansive canyons etched in multicolored sandstone with jagged peaks and ridges. Every turn of the bend revealed a more spectacular vista then the previous, culminating in a precipitous drop down through the western canyon. Part of me wanted to stop at every turn and take a photograph, but I knew this would radically increase our travel time as I was constantly seeing sights more beautiful than the previous. I decided instead to wait until I came here again—as my wife and I have talked about—and do proper photography on a proper visit.
Leeds Canyon Washington County, Utah If leaving Zion felt like an end to the stunning vistas for the day, arriving at Leeds and making our way up the rough, rocky road into the canyon above was an unexpected surprise. Dry chaparral at the bottom gradually transitioned to pinyon/juniper woodland, with Gambel oak appearing at even higher elevations and eventually ponderosa pine forest once we surpassed 6000’ elevation. It was a Thursday before a holiday weekend, so we were a bit apprehensive about whether the campground at the top of the canyon would have any available spots and then pleasantly surprised to find it virtually empty with our choice of any spot. We chose one at the very back of the campground— well isolated from other sites, should they eventually become occupied, and with a stunning view through towering pines framing the canyon peaks towering above at heights of 10,000’.
View from our campsite at Oak Grove Campground—Leeds Canyon, Utah
The cool, moist air with low-hanging clouds belied recent rain and the likelihood of more on the way, but having been in the vehicle much of the day we were anxious to begin collecting and opted to explore rather than first setting up camp. I began by beat-sampling the living branches of the different trees around the campground but found nothing other than a few Elateridae on Pinus ponderosa, Quercus gambelii, and Cercocarpus ledifolius and a crabronid wasp inspecting holes in the trunk of a large standing dead Pinus ponderosa (maybe looking for potential nesting sites, or perhaps hunting?).
Trypoxylon sp. (family Crabronidae) inspects holes in the trunk of a large standing dead Pinus ponderosa for potential nesting sites.
We began hiking a trail off the west end of the campground, where we passed an enormous ponderosa pine—it’s crown damaged by lightning many years ago and a secondary leader taking its place, near which I encountered a pricklypear cactus with a couple of blooms of the brightest pink I’d ever seen. This proved to be the pink form Opuntia aurea (I’d seen the yellow form of this species yesterday near Coral Pink Sand Dunes), and nestled down in the flowers—apparently already a bedded down for the evening—was Acmaeodera diffusa.
Opuntia aurea (golden pricklypear cactus—family Cactaceae) in ponderosa pine/Gambel oak forest.
It was then that we felt the first raindrops, so we decided we’d better go back to the site and set up camp—lest we found ourselves doing it later in the rain, but as we hustled back the raindrops became larger and began falling with great intensity. Whipping winds soon accompanied the rain, making setting up the tent a real challenge, but we were able to setup the tent and bring our things inside—including our chairs for a place to hang out—before the heavy rain began. Curiously, the heavy rain never materialized, and quickly enough the winds as well subsided. As a bonus, the previous occupants had left some uncut bolts of mountain mahogany—completely dry and ready to burn if one was willing to cut them up. I did exactly that (it was some of the hardest wood I’ve ever encountered!), allowing us to enjoy yet another campfire on a cool mountain evening.
Mesmerizing campfire.
Day 11
We came to the canyon above Leeds based on the recommendation of Denanthony Fernandez. Denanthony and I have never met, but we’ve corresponded some and I know him to be an indefatigable collector of Buprestidae and Cerambycidae in the southwestern U.S. Denanthony was also kind enough to send GPS coordinates for some of the spots where he has collected within the canyon, ranging from pinyon/juniper woodland at the lower elevations to ponderosa pine and Gambel oak forest at the top. We decided to try the lower elevations first and then, depending on how successful we were, work our way up to the higher elevations. The first spot coincided with a creek crossing (it was gushing with water!) where we found a place to park and then started exploring. Immediately I found Acmaeodera bowditchi on the flowers of Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia, but it was apparently an isolated plant and no other plants in bloom were found. I soon got distracted photographing a small lizard, while Mike started examining stands of a white-flowered shrub lining the roadway for bees. I began examining it as well, at first finding only several galerucine leaf beetles on its foliage.
Uta stansburiana (common side-blotched lizard) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Galerucine leaf beetle (family Chrysomelidae) on foliage of Eriodictyon angustifolium in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Callophrys gryneus siva (Siva’s juniper hairstreak—family Lycaenidae) on flower of Eriodictyon angustifolium in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Eventually, however, Mike saw an Acmaeodera fly to one of its flowers, and when we started watching the plants more could be seen. We quickly realized that the plant was Eriodictyon angustifolium—the precise plant that Denanthony had mentioned as hosting a variety of Acmaeodera in the area. The beetles were sporadic at first and never really became abundant, but after some amount of time I had collected a decent series of what turned out to be A. angelica as well as one or two specimens each of A. bowditchi, A. perlanosa, and A. pubiventris lanata on its flowers. While I was doing this, Mike wandered off and found a well-maintained little trail but reported only a single blooming pricklypear cactus off which he’d collected a few bees and a single A. diffusa. I decided to see if I could find it and bushwhacked in the direction he’d come from, encountering not one but several Opuntia woodsii with its salmon-colored flowers and collecting both A. diffusa and A. ligulata on them.
Opuntia woodsii (Woods’ pricklypear cactus—family Cactaceae) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
I decided to follow the trail to look for more pricklypear cactuses in bloom but had little luck. Beating was fruitless as I walked the trail, but eventually I saw a small creek from the trail (with the promise of plants in bloom) and found a spur in the trail that led me down to it. Creekside I found a few large patches of Psoralia tenuifolia actively visited by bees (collecting a few for Mike) but nothing else. However, in the other side of the creek (near an old historic kiln) I found several Heliomeris multiflora in bloom with A. bowditchi and bee on its flowers.
Historic kiln.
Heliomeris multiflora (showy goldeneye—family Asteraceae) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Frasera albomarginata (desert green gentian—family Gentianaceae) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
The spur ended at the kiln, but a foot trail continued through the woodland, which I followed hoping to find more plants in bloom. This resulted in limited success—I found single flowering individual of Cylindropuntia whipplei, off the flowers of which I collected a few A. quadrivittatoides, and Opuntia camanchica, off which I collected a single A. bowditchi (and a bee for Mike). At this point I decided we’d sampled this spot well enough and turned around to find Mike and head for the next spot up the road.
Cylindropuntia whipplei (whipple cholla—family Cactaceae) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Just one-half mile further up the canyon from the previous stop, we could already see the activity on the flowers of pricklypear cactus along the roadside as we drove up and parked. The first of such we approached was Opuntia woodsii, with its sumptuously salmon-colored blooms, and on this plant alone I collected several species of Acmaeodera including A. bowditchi, A. diffusa, A. ligulata, and A. quadrivittatoides from its flowers. Several blooming Opuntia camanchica—its flowers brighter yellow with salmon-colored centers—were growing nearby and attracting Acmaeodera in droves, and over the next hour or so I collected good series of the same species I’d collected from O. woodsii.
Acmaeodera bowditchi, A. ligulata, and A. quadrivittatoides (family Buprestidae) on flower of Opuntia camanchica (tulip pricklypear cactus) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Eventually I tired of finding more of the same on these two species of pricklypear cactus flowers and began looking for other flowers that may be harboring Acmaeodera. They were few and far between, but I did find a couple of Penstemon palmeri still in bloom (most seemed well past), one of which had a single A. ligulata on its flower, and a small area with a few Psoralea tenuiflora in bloom produced but a single Acmaeodera sp. (I could not decide at the time if it represented the common A. rubronotata or a small individual of the localized target A. knowltoni). As I searched, a male Okanagana utahensis singing in a nearby Quercus turbinella caught my attention, and I was able to sneak up on it and locate it. I noticed another individual nearby—a female attracted to the call in presumed—and after photographing it managed to capture the male (but not the female).
Okanagana sp. poss. utahensis (sagebrush cicada—family Cicadidae) male singing in pinyon/juniper woodland.
By now I’d had enough of pricklypear cactus Acmaeodera, and Mike and I decided we had enough time in the day to try one more lower elevation spot—this one another mile or so up the canyon road.
We noticed oaks had become more abundant amongst the pinyons and junipers as we found a place to pull off the road, and almost immediately after getting out of the vehicle I noticed Eriodictyon angustifolium blooming much more abundantly along the road than the more spent-looking plants at the first stop that morning. Even before I had gotten ready, I saw an Acmaeodera ligulata and an A. pubiventris lanata on flowers of the plant closest to me—I managed to capture the former, but the latter eluded me (and of course I never saw another at that stop!), and I eventually collected good series of A. bowditchi, A. diffusa, and A. rubronotata/knowltoni. I also collected a few non-buprestid beetles on the E. angustifolium flowers, including a red/black Saxinus sp. and a red/black Trichodes ornatus. Penstemon palmeri was in better bloom here, and I collected one Acmaeodera diffusa on its flowers and a single Elateridae on Artimisia sp. (sagebrush). A bit further up the road Mike had found an even more robust stand of E. angustifolium in peak flower, from which I collected additional specimens of Acmaeodera angelica, A. bowditchi, A. diffusa, and A. rubronotata/knowltoni. I also noticed more of the red/black Trichodes ornatus (red/black) and then realized that the several other beetle species on the flowers all seemed to be following a red/black coloration theme. These included Collops sp., Lycidae, and Coccinellidae (the latter which I did not collect).
Efferia sp. (family Asilidae) female in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Limenitis weidemeyerii (Weidemeyer’s admiral—family Nymphalidae) on flowers of Eriodictyon angustifolium in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Once we’d collected our fill, I got out the tropics net and spent some time sweeping the canopy of the Gambel oaks (common here but not further down the canyon), but I found no beetles and little else of interest. Beyond the trees, however, we found an east access to Leeds Creek, it’s course swollen with gushing water. We had been in the field all day and were quite hot, and I couldn’t resist the opportunity to clean off and refresh myself in the clear mountain water. The rocky creek-bed and rapid current made securing footing (with bare feet) difficult, so proper handholds became paramount, and the frigid temperatures limited the time I could keep any part of my body submerged, but the refreshment and invigoration made it well worth the effort. What a fantastic way to wind down the day of collecting!
When we returned to the campground, we saw that every other site had become occupied (it was now Friday before a holiday weekend), and we thanked our lucky stars that we’d gotten here when we did and were able to claim such a choice spot! There was a fair bit of daylight remaining, so before starting dinner and settling down for the evening I wanted to return to the flowering Opuntia aurea that we’d found yesterday and check it again for Acmaeodera. I found the plant, but the flowers were now spent and nearly closed—their vivid pink now dulled and browned. However, I pried apart the petals and found, nevertheless, a couple of A. diffusa bedded down within the flower. I searched a bit more but did not find other cactus in bloom, so I returned to the campsite where Mike and I processed our day’s catch while we still had daylight.
The ”Bee Tree,” a 550 year-old ponderosa pine that has survived several forest fires and lightning strikes, one of which destroyed its crown—Oak Grove Campground.
Later in the evening as we were sitting by the campfire (still utilizing the super-hard mountain mahogany I’d cut up the day before), I saw a cerambycid beetle crawling on the ground towards the campfire. This proved to be Arhopalus productus, and over the next half-hour or so I found three additional individuals apparently attracted to the fire. As a final collecting act for the day, I decided to “walk the road” before going to be to see what beetles I might find walking nocturnally. I photographed a few interesting non-beetles, and near the furthest point before turning around I found a species of Zopherus that I take to be Z. uteanus.On the way back to the campsite, I checked the trunk of a massive, standing, recently-dead Pinus ponderosa in a nearby campsite. I had checked the tree several times during the day expecting to but not seeing woodboring beetles on it; however, this time I found another A. productus plus a few individuals of two species of Trogossitidae.
Ammopelmatus sp. (Jerusalem cricket—family Stenopelmatidae) nocturnally on road through ponderosa pine/Gambel oak forest. (I don’t find any known species with ranges extending into this area.)
Sclerosomatid harvestman (order Opiliones) feeding on tenebrionid beetle carcass in ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
Zopherusuteanus (family Zopheridae) nocturnally on road through ponderosa pine/Gambel oak forest.
Day 12
Yesterday we checked several lower elevation spots in the canyon, so today we wanted to try the higher elevations. I still wasn’t sure I’d collected Acmaeodera knowltoni, thinking that specimens I’d collected at the lower elevations that could be small individuals of this species might actually be A. rubronotata instead, and guidance from Denanthony indicated that the species was not only more abundant but also the individuals larger (and this easier to distinguish from A. rubronotata) higher up in the canyon. Before going down to the highest of the spots recommended by Denanthony, we stoppped at a spot even further up in the canyon where profuse blooms of Penstemon palmeri could be seen blooming abundantly along the roadside (good for bees). This contrasted markedly with the paltry, sparse blooms we’d seen in the pinyon/juniper woodland at lower elevations, and we reasoned other plant species may also be blooming in greater abundance. Almost immediately getting out of the vehicle I found a new-for-the-locality flowering plant—Acmispon wrightii (Wright’s deervetch)—with several Acmaeodera diffusa on its flowers.
Acmaeodera diffusa (family Buprestidae) on flower of Acmispon wrightii (Wright’s deervetch) in Gambel’s oak woodland.
Right next to it was a single Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia in bloom with more of the same, but I hit the jackpot when I walked up the road a ways and found a rather large patch of these plants blooming abundantly and upon the flowers of which I collected numbers of not only A. bowditchi and A. diffusa, but also both A. knowltoni and A. rubronotata—the latter two easily distinguishable from each other not only by the larger size of A. knowltoni but also its uniformly orange rather than yellow elytral flecks with red towards the apices.
Acmaeodera knowltoni (family Buprestidae) on flowers of Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia (gooseberryleaf globemallow) in Gambel’s oak woodland.
Acmaeodera knowltoni was also found along with A. bowditchi, A. diffusa, and Trichodes ornatus (red/black) on the flowers of Penstemon palmeri along the roadside leading up the road, and at the start of a trail leading off a nearby parking area I found the pink form of Opuntia aurea with A. bowditchi, A. diffusa, and A. knowltoni on its flowers.
Trichodes ornatus (ornate checkered beetle—family Cleridae) on flower of Penstemon palmeri (Palmer’s penstemon) in Gambel’s oak woodland.
A second species of Penstemon (P. linarioides) was common along the trail, which I checked it thoroughly for the presence of Acmaeodera, but the only beetles I found associated with its dark purple flowers was Trichodes ornatus. A small clump of A. wrightii was also found in this area, and in this case so found not only A. diffusa on its flowers but also A. knowltoni. The impressive numbers of Acmaeodera collected during the morning hours at this spot had me wondering what we would find at the next spot!
Penstemon linarioides (toadflax penstemon—family Plantaginaceae) in Gambel’s oak woodland—flower.
A bit further down the canyon the Gambel oak woodland transitioned to scrub oak (Quercus turbinella) woodland with robust stands of Eriodictyon angustifolium blooming along the roadside.
Gambel’s oak woodland—Leeds Canyon, Utah.
Right beside the vehicle were some robust blooming Penstemon palmeri with Acmaeodera angelica and A. knowltoni on its flowers, and in the nearest stand of E. angustifolium I collected several more A. angelica, A. diffusa, and A. knowltoni. I’d noticed even better stands of E. angustifolium a bit further down the road and walked to them—finding a bee for Mike on the flower of Diateria sp. (tansyaster) along the way, and then proceeded to collect nice series of the same plus not only A. bowditchi on the flowers but also a few specimens of A. ligulata and A. quadrivittatoides (these latter two the first I’d seen today).
Cucullia dorsalis (family Noctuidae) larva feeding on inflorescence of Dieteria sp. along roadside through Gambel’s oak woodland.
After thoroughly examining the patches I’d seen, I walked back up to the vehicle to see how Mike had done, and he gave me a small Anthaxia (Melanthaxia) sp. that he’d collected on the flower of Eremogone macradenia. He had seen the plant in only one spot a bit further up the road, so I walked up to the spot to see if I could find any more. I did not, but I did collect a couple of A. bowditchi on the flowers. By now I was famished and thirsty and felt I’d given the spot a good enough look, so I ate a bite of lunch and downed a bottle of Powerade (ask me why I prefer this brand over Gatorade) before heading to the next spot further down the canyon.
Eremogone macradenia (Mojave sandwort—family Caryophyllaceae) in Gambel’s oak woodland.
This was another of the spots that Mike and I had noticed as a possible stop in addition to those recommended by Denanthony. It was below the third stop up the canyon that we’d visited the day before but above the second, mostly pinyon/juniper spot and, thus, still contained a lot of scrub oak (Quercus turbinellum) with robust stands of Eriodictyon angustifolium along the road. We had to park down the canyon a bit to fully get off the road and then hiked back up to where we’d seen the stands. Along the way I found a single Opuntia camanchica in good bloom with several Acmaeodera visiting the flowers. These included A. bowditchi (of which I only took a few for the record given the number I collected on this cactus species the day before) but also A. ligulata and A. quadrivittatoides which were more interesting records for the cactus. Despite their robustness and profuse blooms, the E. angustifolium stands that prompted us to stop here produced very few Acmaeodera (or even bees, for that matter), but when I hiked further up the canyon I encountered some smaller stands in sparser bloom that produced at least a few individuals of nearly every other species of Acmaeodera that we had found in the canyon (A. angelica, A. bowditchi, A. diffusa, A. knowltoni, A. perlanosa, and A. pubiventris lanata). As we’d approached the spot from above, I’d also noticed several stands of Heliomeris multiflora along the roadside as well, so I hiked up to them and was rewarded with A. ligulata on the flowers along with A. bowditchi and A. diffusa.
Acmaeodera angelica (family Buprestidae) on flower of Eriodictyon angustifolium in Gambel’s oak woodland.
Limenitis weidemeyerii (Weidemeyer’s admiral—family Nymphalidae) along roadside through Gambel’s oak woodland.
Having visited all of the spots up and down the canyon that Denanthony had recommended (except the area right around the campground, which we would explore the next day) and then some, we decided to go back to the first stop we made the day before—the lowest elevation spot in the canyon where we had collected—to see how it compared in the (now) late afternoon compared to mid- to late morning. It was hot, and I needed to eat and rehydrate, so I found a shaded spot to do that while Mike forged ahead. As I was getting ready to walk to the spot myself, Mike came back with a specimen of Acmaeodera quadrivittatoides that he had taken in flight near the stand of Eriodictyon angustifolium from which we’d had such good luck collecting the previous day. I had not seen this species during that first visit but found a few additional individuals this time, and the same went for A. knowltoni and A. ligulata (in fact, a single individual of A. pubiventris lanata was the only repeat species this time).
Coming back up the canyon, we stopped again at the first spot where we collected so Mike could pick up “bowl traps” that he had set out. (Bowl traps are commonly used by apiologists to sample bees in an area. Small plastic bowls, generally white, yellow, or blue in color, are filled with soapy water and placed on the ground. Bees mistake the colored bowls for flowers and drop into the soapy water when trying to land on it. Incidentally, these have proven effective also for flower-visiting species of Acmaeodera—Mike has given me many that he has collected over the years in his bowl traps, and I have begun using the technique myself.) While backing into the pullout, the tire pressure warning light suddenly came on, and I got out to see the left front tire hissing air and going flat. What ensued was a comedy of errors of epic proportions! We unloaded the back of the vehicle and got out the spare tire and jack, but we could not find a tire wrench anywhere in the vehicle. Mind you, the vehicle was purchased new last year, so it was unthinkable to me that it could have come without a tire iron! No problem, I thought—I’ll just call AAA. I had just enough cell service to make the call and endure the endless automated questions and call transfers before reaching a live person and submitting a service request. While I was waiting for service, I decided to walk back up to the spot where I’d had such good luck collecting A. knowltoni and other species in the genus on Sphaeralcea grossulariifolia to see how late afternoon collecting would compare (hang in there—the comedy of errors will ensue shortly). The S. grossulariifolia flowers were not open to the same degree as they were in the morning, but still the Acmaeodera were numerous on them and I added to my series of A. knowltoni (along with a few more A. bowditchi and A. diffusa for the record). As I walked back to the vehicle, a missed call notification came through on my phone. Apparently AAA had tried to contact me (unsuccessfully due to poor reception in the area I had walked to) and left a voicemail. When I called them back, they told me they couldn’t send a tow truck up an unpaved road. My explanation that I needed only a tire iron and not a tow truck fell on deaf ears, so when I hung up I told Mike there was nothing left to do but to walk up to the campground (thankfully less than a mile up the road) and see if I could bum a tire iron. As it turned out, I didn’t even have to walk all the way to the campground, as I encountered a family parked at the creek crossing below the campground. Dad rummaged through the back of his truck and produced a tire iron after I explained our predicament, and I was quickly on my way back to the vehicle. There was once positive from the walk—during the return leg, I was finally presented an opportunity to photograph a splendid individual of Papilio rutulus (western tiger swallowtail)—a species that had eluded all my previous attempts to photograph it by refusing to even land anywhere, much less pose long enough to attempt a photograph!
Papilio rutulus (western tiger swallowtail—family Papilionidae) on flowers of Medicago sativa (alfalfa) along roadside through Gambel’s oak woodland.
Returning to the vehicle, we were ready to change the tire and get the day back on track, but when I attempted to loosen the first lug the iron spun freely—it was too big! Who knew tire lugs came in different sizes? (Okay, maybe others know this, but it was news to me!) Just then a truck came by, so we waved him down and explained our predicament to the man driving and the several young men that he was clearly the boss of. It took them much more time to find it, but they finally produced a tire iron after some extensive rummaging through the truck’s tool chest. It looked to me exactly the first one I’d bummed, but I tried it anyway. Of course, the result was the same—it was too big! As Mike, the man, and his crew debated the next step, I got to thinking about how weird-looking the jack was that I’d pulled from my vehicle—it just didn’t make sense that a tire iron could have been mistakenly omitted from the spare tire compartment. I picked up the jack, looked it over carefully, and saw one part of it that had a lug socket-looking piece on it. I started fumbling with that part of the jack, and it suddenly detached from the jack proper—proving itself to be a custom-designed foldable tire iron! I felt like such an idiot, but I was so elated to have finally found the iron that I didn’t care. I showed the others what I’d found, and after a good laugh (either with me or at me, perhaps both) the man and his crew continued on their way and Mike and I proceeded to change the tire and get back on the road.
Mike assists with the tire change.
As a final collecting act (perhaps a momento for the flat tire fiasco), I found a tenebrionid beetle crawling on the road next to the vehicle while we changed the flat.
Safely back at the campground after our flat tire fiasco, we settled down to process the day’s (prodigious) catch. We again relished our choice site in the campground, with its stunning view and maximum privacy, and eventually prepared what had become our favorite dinner—“dirty burgers” (burgers cooked in a frying pan in which grease and drippings from previous days’ meals are allowed to accumulate).
“Dirty burgers” coll
Conditions still were not favorable for blacklighting (moon nearing full and coolish temps at such high elevation), so instead of setting up lights I waited for a bit after darkness fell and then wandered over to the giant recently-dead ponderosa pine in the neighboring campsite and checked it for beetles attracted to its trunk. Unlike the previous night, when only one longhorned beetle was found, this time I encountered multiple specimens of Arhopalus sp., Tetropium? sp., Trogosittidae, and Elateridae after repeated circuits around the giant tree trunk. Once no more beetles were found, I began walking the road up through and out of the campground. I was especially interested in seeing if I could find more of the Z. uteanus that I found the previous night and succeeded in finding three more (in almost the exact same place as the previous specimen) along with several tenebrionid beetles.
Coelocnemis punctata (family Tenebrionidae) nocturnally on road through ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
Eleodes (Blapylis) sp. (family Tenebrionidae) nocturnally on road through ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
At the furthest point that I walked before turning back, towering ponderosa pines framed a stunning view of the moonlit canyon wall with the Big Dipper hanging perfectly over it—a perfect scene to capture using the iPhone’s night photography mode.
The Big Dipper shines above the canyon ridge.
Day 13
Our plan for the day was to leave the canyon and travel further west to a couple of localities (one near the border with Arizona, another just over it) where Ampheremus cylindricollis has been recorded to occur before at last starting back to the east and traveling to Jacobs Lake, Arizona. First, however, we couldn’t leave the canyon without giving a good look at the highest elevations in the canyon. We had seen wild rose (Rosa woodsii) in bloom just below the campground each of the past two mornings but no beetles upon them; however, the time needed to break down camp had us leaving the campground a bit later in the day with correspondingly higher temps.
Upper Leeds Creek.
When we reached the creek crossing where the roses were growing, we could see gobs of beetles in them even before we parked and got out of the vehicle! With the first tap of a flower over the net I got a couple of Acmaeodera knowltoni and nearly two dozen Anthaxia sp.! The latter were clearly members of the subgenus Haplanthaxia, meaning the species was A. caseyi—the only western U.S. species of the subgenus (as opposed to the subgenus Melanthaxia, of which there are many western U.S. species). However, several A. caseyi subspecies have been described, and it will require closer examination to determine which (if any) of the described subspecies this population pertains to. The buprestids were so abundant on the rose flowers that I quickly collected sufficient series of each and turned my attention to examining the beetles in the flowers carefully to look for any that represented other species. In the end, I found just one Acm. bowditchi, two Acm. diffusa, and a few Anthaxia (Melanthaxia) sp. in addition to the dozens of A. knowltoni and hundreds (literally!) of A. caseyi seen (also a couple of Curculionidae).
Anthaxia (Haplanthaxia) caseyi ssp. (family Buprestidae) on flower of Rosa woodsii (Wood’s rose) near creek in ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
Acmaeodera knowltoni and Anthaxia (Haplanthaxia) caseyi ssp. (both family Buprestidae) in flower of Rosa woodsii (Wood’s rose) near creek in ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
Xylota flavitibia (family Syrphidae) on flower of Rosa woodsii (Wood’s rose) near creek in ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
After getting my fill of rose visitors, I set about to see what other beetles I might find in the area, which had experienced a burn in the past year or two (though not stand-killing). Nothing was found beating any of the dead branches, whether pine or oak, and the only beetles I found beating living trees was Curculio sp. on Quercus gambelii. Near a small tributary of the main creek I found Aquilegia formosa (western columbine) and Erythranthe guttata (seep monkeyflower) in bloom, the latter with a few A. knowlton and A. caseyi on its flowers. The only other plant I could find in flower in the area was Erigeron flagellaris, and while I looked at many plants I found only a single A. knowltoni on one of its flowers. I’d hoped to find more on the dead wood (especially non-Acmaeodera, which were the preponderance of buprestids I collected in the canyon over the past few days), but I was happy to have added at least a couple of Anthaxia spp. and increased my series of (and recorded flower hosts for) A. knowltoni.
Aquilegia formosa (western columbine—family Ranunculaceae) near creek in in ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
Erythranthe guttata (seep monkeyflower—family Phrymaceae) near creek in in ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
Erigeron flagellaris (trailing fleabane—family Asteraceae) in recently burned (2 years?) ponderosa pine/Gambel’s oak forest.
It was now near midday, so we decided we should find our way back to civilization and get the flat tire fixed so we could check the two westernmost localities and make it to the Jacobs Lake area by evening.
Santa Clara River Reserve Washington County, Utah After spending a couple hours of our afternoon in Hurricane, Utah (what a name!) getting yesterday’s flat tire fixed at a Walmart (what a cultural experience that was—imagine Appalachia meets Mexico with a touch of Salt Lake City!!), we drove a half-hour to a site in the extreme southwestern corner of the state to look for Ampheremus cylindricollis—a species I have not yet collected myself and which should be associated with Eriogonum inflatum. We had gradually dropped in elevation during the day (we were nearing the western edge of the Colorado Plateau), and by the time we reached the site we were under 3000’ — the lowest we have been at any time in this trip (including northwestern Oklahoma!). The drop in elevation meant an increase in temperature, and when we arrived the thermostat read 109°F (the second-highest temperature I’ve ever experienced while collecting [my PR is a blistering 115°F in the Glamis Dunes of southern California]). Despite the heat, I was anxious to start collecting because I could see stands of Eriogonum as we drove down the road towards the parking lot—except it was not E. inflatum but rather a smaller species that I determined to be E. deflexum (flatcrown buckwheat). Nevertheless, I began sweeping it and quickly found a tiny buprestid that I did not immediately recognize. Buoyed by this unexpected surprise, I swept more of the plants and quickly came up with two more specimens. With three now in hand, I couldn’t wait any longer to know what species it represented, so I checked my sources and determined it must be Anambodera nebulosa—perhaps an even better catch than A. cylindricollis because not only have I never collected it, but neither is it even represented in my collection by a specimen I’ve gotten from someone else. (I am also unsure whether the host plant has been recorded or if it has ever been collected in Utah.) At that point, I started sweeping every Eriogonum plant I could find (including a few E. inflatum, which I did find up the hill a ways) but persistently came up empty. It was not until I’d worked my way to the first parking area and swept the last stand of E. deflexum on that side of the road that I eventually found a fourth individual. Considering how much work it took to find them (and the extreme heat in which I was doing it), I gave only a half-hearted attempt to plants on the other side of the road as I walked back to the car (with predictably unsuccessful results). I also failed to find A. cylindricollis, but I had one more locality that I wanted to check so I remained optimistic.
Tukuoetsi Trailhead, Santa Clara River Reserve—Washington County, Utah
Virgin River Canyon Recreation Area MojaveCounty, Arizona It took us another half hour to make it to Virgin River Canyon — a Bureau of Land Management Recreation Area just inside the northwestern-most corner of Arizona as one drops down from the Colorado Plateau into the Great Basin.
Virgin River Canyon Recreation Area—Mojave County, Arizona
This was the other spot I had where I might be able to collect Ampheremus cylindricollis, and if we thought the last stop was hot, this one was extreme — a sweltering 112°F! Unfortunately, we drove throughout the area and did not see any stands of Eriogonum inflatum (the host plant for A. cylindricollis) — or any species of Eriogonum for that matter. Nevertheless, we got out our nets and began looking around, as there were other flowering plants present (Baileya and Hymenopappus). Nothing was seen in them at first (although Mike eventually found a true desert bee species on the lone still-flowering individual of the latter), so I took the short Canyon Scenic Overlook Trail to its terminus. I was glad I did, as there were some very informative interpretive signs about the geology of the area, but the overwhelming heat had me wilting quickly and I worked my way back to the car.
Looking down into the Great Basin.
Multicolored cliffs at the edge of the Colorado Plateau.
I’m not sure where in the area the host plant occurs, but it is not at this spot. With no other potential collecting localities identified in the area — and having reached the westernmost extent of the trip, we turned back towards the east and started heading for Jacobs Lake in the Kaibab Mountains of northern Arizona.
The beginning of our eastward return towards the Kaibab Plateau was uneventful, although we became increasingly concerned when a smoke plume appeared on the horizon and the closer we got to reaching our destination (Jacobs Lake Campground) the more it seemed that that was also the location of the fire. When we got up on top of the plateau, we discovered a vast swath of its northern portion had already been devastated in an obviously very hot (i.e., stand replacing) wildfire within the past couple of years, only increasing our fears about what we might find. Fortunately, the devastation ended some miles before we reach Jacobs Lake (and the smoke plum—a controlled burn, was still some miles beyond), but when we reached the campground we were sorely disappointed to find not a single spot available even on a Sunday night (though admittedly still a holiday weekend leading into July 4th). Our only choice was to turn around and head down off the plateau into the tiny town of Fredonia, where we found a room at an odd little complex of duplex units.
Grand Canyon Motel—Fredonia, Arizona.
Day 14
Our hopes of good coffee in the morning were dashed when the ‘Closed’ sign in the small bakery across the street remained in place, so we were forced to visit one of the two local gas stations where I unintentionally eavesdropped on a group of local Arizona Republicans that had claimed the available breakfast seating area (hiding the rips in my jeans as a result—it’s a weird story!) before driving back up onto the plateau and through the devastation to LeFevre Overlook.
Dinosaurs everywhere out west!
Le Fevre Overlook Kaibab National Forest CoconinoCounty, Arizona The pinyon/juniper woodland at this spot was not completely without impacts from the recent wildfires but did not exhibit the wholesale devastation seen further back. Immediately after starting out—not even 10 meters from the vehicle—I encountered a dead Pinus edulis with tantalizingly loose bark that said “peel me!” Peeling back the first slab gave an immediate payoff—an Arhopalus montanus that had taken shelter under the loose bark. I peeled back another piece and found another individual, and by the time I had peeled the entire trunk I had a nice series of a half-dozen specimens.
Arhopalusmontanus (family Cerambycidae) under loose bark on trunk of dead Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Peeling the bark revealed not only longhorned beetles but also Buprestis-sized emergence holes in the sapwood, one of which still contained a dead individual that had failed to emerge from the wood. I carefully chipped away at the surrounding wood until I was able to extract the cadaver—a nearly intact B. prospera—another target for the trip and now a new addition to my cabinet!
Buprestis prospera (family Buprestidae) intact carcass in emergence hole under loose bark on trunk of dead Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper woodland.
As I worked I was approached by several tourists curious about what I was doing. I cheerfully fielded their questions and even showed the specimens to those interested, having long ago stopped seeing these as annoying interruptions but rather opportunities to present the science of entomology in a favorable light. I did not extend the same courtesy to a particular Arizona Republican, who pulled up in his large pickup (white, with giant tires of course) and got out packing an intentionally visible sidearm. I’m thinking “Who in the hell does this man think he’ll meet that he needs to be able to shoot them?” That’s some compensation if I ever saw it! I hoped he wouldn’t want to engage, but no such luck—when he asked me what I was doing, I just said “kinda busy” in an attempt to abort any further interaction. This worked, and I was relieved to not have to tell him more directly not to approach me. I worked several other dead pinyon pines in the area the same way but was not able to replicate the success I’d had at that first tree, so I began beating the living trees in the area to see if adults of other woodboring species were out and about. Indeed they were, producing several individuals of one of a sculptured Chrysobothris sp., a small species of Acanthocinini, and a giant male Monochamus clamator.
Monochamus clamator (spotted pine sawyer—family Cerambycidae) beaten from living Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Across the road I spotted a recently wind-thrown branch of P. edulis, and crossing the road to reach it was worth the effort—I was able to collect a nice series of what I believe is Chrysobothris cuprascens (another species I’ve not collected previously) as well as a few specimens of the sculptured Chrysobothris sp. I’d collected earlier (I presume).
Demonstrating the “finger tap” method that is useful for collecting Chrysobothris spp. on dead branches.
Working my way to a large standing recently dead P. edulis nearby, I encountered and netted a small histerid beetle in flight, but on the trunk of the tree itself I found only a few Enoclerus sp. (perhaps E. lecontei) and no Buprestidae or Cerambycidae. I went back to the fallen branch to see if I could collect a few more C. cuprascens, which I did but also found one being preyed upon by an Enoclerus sp. and collected predator and prey together. Mike was having only moderate luck with bees (due to a dearth of plants in bloom), and since I’d gotten a good enough look at the area we decided to move further up the plateau.
We drove further south onto the higher elevations of the plateau, the scrubby pinyon/juniper woodlands being gradually replaced by forests of tall, stately ponderosa pine. Gone also were the devastating effects of recent wildfires, replaced by evidence of active fire management practices intended to minimize accumulation of wood fuel and controlled burns that leave their telltale black signatures at the base of the trees but do not kill them. The result of these efforts was a rich ground layer of ceanothus, lupine, and other shrubs and forbs in full bloom.
4 mi NW Jacob Lake Kaibab National Forest Coconino County, Arizona I spotted a large, recently wind-thrown ponderosa pine as we drove, it’s faded gray-green suggesting it might be the right age to look for woodboring beetles running along its trunk and branches, and stopped the vehicle at the nearest pull-off. There was so much blooming ceanothus around that Mike barely had to walk before he started finding bees visiting the flowers. I searched them also for Buprestidae and Cerambycidae but found none, but my immediate objective was to hike back to the fallen tree I’d seen from the highway. Along the way I continued—for a while—to check the ceanothus flowers but eventually quit doing this when it was clear no beetles were utilizing them at this time, and the occasional small dead tree and fallen branch also failed to produce any beetles running along them. At one point before reaching the fallen giant I encountered a huge, standing dead ponderosa pine with mostly intact but tantalizingly loose bark and promptly began peeling it. The bark was still semi-attached but easily peeled off in large chunks, occasionally revealing galleries packed with moist, fibrous frass that usually surrounded a large entrance hole into the sapwood. Eventually in one of these galleries I found a huge cerambycid larva that, based on size alone but also the presence of distinct legs I take to be Trichocnemis spiculatus—common in ponderosa pine in Arizona and one of only very few species with larvae of this size. I collected it in an attempt to rear to adulthood and did the same with another found under the bark of a nearby tree—others were later found boring into the slightly punky sapwood of the first tree.
Likely Trichocnemis spiculatus (spined woodborer—family Cerambycidae) larva under slightly loose bark on trunk of large, standing, recently dead Pinus ponderosa.
Eventually I reached the large, recently-fallen Pinus ponderosa that was the reason for the stop. The lower half of the massive trunk was propped up at eye level by the branches that snapped and impaled into the ground when it fell, making it easy to scan both its upper sunlit and lower shaded surfaces for any sign of movement. None was seen at first, but eventually tiny Enoclerus sp. (prob. lecontei) were seen running along the trunk. Continued searching scared up a Chalcophora angulicollis, which flew to and landed clumsily on the tree’s exposed root-wad, and several Chrysobothris sp. prob. dentipes were seen on the sunny surface but only one captured. The upper branches of the tree were no more productive—only a single Chrysobothris sp. (not C. dentipes) was found after thoroughly searching them.
Chalcophora angulicollis (western sculptured pine borer—family Buprestidae) on trunk of large recently-fallen Pinus ponderosa.
I continue to peel bark on the way back to the car, finding only a dead Trogosittidae under loose bark on the lower trunk of a large dead Pinus ponderosa, and by the time I’d returned to the vehicle I was not overly impressed with the spot. Mike, however, was having tremendous success collecting bees, not only from the ceanothus but other flowers as well, so I decided to cross the highway and check out some standing dead pines that I could see from afar. As I started out, I noticed movement on a small, newly-fallen branch of P. ponderosa right next to me and saw that it was a Chrysobothris sp.—colllecting not only that one but another that flew to the branch while I was putting the first one in the bottle. As I crossed the road and walked towards the trees, I noticed another fallen giant ponderosa pine looking very much like the first one I’d seen from the highway and veered towards it. Immediately upon approach I saw the zippy movement and escape flight of a Chrysobothris, its identity belied by the green flash of its abdominal tergites as it took flight. Continued searching along its trunk produced not only C. dentipes but also several Phaenops gentilis.
Phaenops gentilis (family Buprestidae) on trunk of large recently-fallen Pinus ponderosa.
Trimerotropis pallidipennis (pallid-winged grasshopper—family Acrididae) on trunk of large recently-fallen Pinus ponderosa.
Nothing was seen on the lower portions of the branches, but beating the upper needled portions produced many Enoclerus sp. (prob. E. lecontei) and what I at first took to be a very small species of Oedemeridae. Something about them, however, gave me pause, and I got out the lens to take a closer look at them. I’m glad I did, because they turned out not to be ordemerids, but rather tiny cerambycids of the genus Phymatodes! I continued beating the branches to find more and eventually collected a nice series of them. Ironically, the standing dead trees that first caught my attention had nothing on them. By now, we were anxious to get to Jacob Lake Campground to see if, on a Monday, we could now claim a site. Only a few sites were available, most of them in undesirably exposed settings, but luck was with us when we found a large, nicely shaded site that was well-distanced from those surrounding it. We claimed the spot and then went back out to take advantage of what remained of the afternoon.
Driving south of Jacob Lake on Hwy 67 took us directly into the area subject to the controlled burn that had caused the smoke plume that concerned us the day before. Smoldering embers dotted the blackened understory, but the tall pines above, their foliage bright and green, belied the controlled nature of the burn. I wanted to get out and look for Melanophila spp., which are famously attracted to smoldering remnants of forest fires, but access to the public was closed for obvious safety reasons.
7 mi S Jacob Lake Kaibab National Forest Coconino County, Arizona Clearing the burn area we encountered a more open forest that had clearly been ravaged by an uncontrolled fire within the last couple of years—perhaps the same one that had devastated so much of the northern edge of the plateau, but along the margins where the damage was less severe we saw stands of flowering trees that proved to be Robinia neomexicana. I expected to find Agrilus egenus on the living foliage, and that is what I found in numbers. There were a few large, standing, dead Pinus ponderosa—under the loose bark on the lower trunk of one I found a Trogosittidae and on the lower trunk of another I captured several Xylotes sp. flies that were clearly attracted to the tree.
Agrilus egenus (family Buprestidae) on foliage of living Robinia neomexicana in aspen grove in burned ponderosa pine forest.
Not much else was found of interest, so we decided to drive further south into even higher elevations. This eventually led out of the area of devastation into an area of high alpine meadows with interesting, ground-hugging species of flowering plants but little of interest in the way of insects.
High elevation alpine meadow.
Phlox austromontana (mountain phlox—family Polemoniaceae) in high elevation alpine meadow.
The afternoon by then passing into evening, we returned to the campground and spent a very comfortable night sleeping at altitude.
Day 15
A couple weeks ago I noticed Facebook posts by Joel Dubois, who had collected some nice species near Farmington. I thought the area might be a nice stopping point for collecting as we began to work our way back to St. Louis in earnest, and Joel was kind enough to send me location information for where he had collected. It would be a 5½-hour drive from our campsite at Jacob Lake, so instead of a leisurely morning enjoying our coffee, we broke camp early and were on the road by 8 am.
A relict from simpler days.
The drive down off the Kaibab Plateau and across northern Arizona was as spectacular as any we’ve seen during the trip, and we marveled at the myriad bizarre rock formations, multicolored canyon walls, and desolate volcanic ash landscapes. It was tempting to stop and explore along the way, but we kept our noses to the grindstone and reached the site by mid-afternoon.
Brown Springs Campground Glade Run Recreation Area San JuanCounty, New Mexico The place looked extremely dry and dusty, but we reserved judgment until we actually got out and sampled for a while (the lessons of experience). Sadly, our initial impression was confirmed, and almost nothing was seen on any plant other than a few tiny Dasytinae and bees on flowers of Stanleya pinnata (“Bees are everywhere.”—Mike Arduser). Not wanting to waste any more time than necessary, we quickly ended our explorations and headed for the next spot.
“Bees are everywhere!”—Michael S. Arduser
Above Pump Canyon San Juan County, New Mexico I visited this canyon once many years ago with fellow beetle-enthusiast Paul Kaufman while he lived in Farmington. Paul collected some nice beetle species from the canyon while he lived here, so I scheduled it as one of our collecting localities for later in the trip as we worked our way back to St. Louis. It was only an hour drive from the previous spot, so we were a little concerned if it would prove to be as dry and lifeless as the previous spot. The presence, however, of pinyon pine and juniper as we worked our way up the canyon created some optimism, with the sighting of ponderosa pines near the top of the canyon being especially welcome.
Top of Pump Canyon.
Top of Pump Canyon.
The first thing I noticed starting out was a small stand of Eriogonum alatum—the same plant that serves as the host for Chrysobothris nelsoni in southwestern Utah! I thought it unlikely that I would find the species here as well, but of course I had to look at the plants anyway. As I did, I noticed two species of clytrine leaf beetles feeding on the inflorescences; one a large, chunky species and the other a much smaller one. I collected a few of each, but buprestids were what I was after and thus turned my attention to the two species of pine in the area—Pinus edulis on top of the mesa and P. ponderosa at its edge and down in the canyon. I’d beaten the branches of several dead P. edulis and chopped around the base of a large, standing dead P. ponderosa—both with no success, when I spotted another large, standing dead P. ponderosa across the road. As I approached it I noticed the metallic green of a Buprestis (Cypriacis) sp. partial carcass on the ground beneath it. It is probably B. aurulenta, but I can’t discount the possibility of it being B. prospera since pinyon pine also occurs in the area—a more specific identification will have to await close examination when I get home. The tree itself produced nothing, so I turned and saw a cut stump of Pinus edulis that was apparently half-live, half-dead when it died or was cut and that exhibited emergence holes of Buprestis on the barkless dead half. I began chipping away at the stump with my hatchet hoping to find an intact carcass of whatever species had made the emergence holes and quickly encountered one in an emergence hole that had not quite reached the exterior when it died. It looks to me like the image I’ve seen of Buprestis pinyoni and the host is right; if it is that species, it would be a really nice find as it was one of my (admittedly long-shot) targets for the trip!
Buprestis pinyoni? (family Buprestidae) cadaver cut from stump of Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon pine) in pinyon/juniper woodland.
Finding the last two carcasses motivated me to continue looking for other evidence of the species, and I beat/chopped/peeled bark from a number of dead pines of both species but did not find any more individuals—either live or dead. I did, however, enjoy the spectacular views of the head of the canyon (essentially a sandstone box canyon). I found more Eriogonum on the other side of the canyon, on one of which was another of the smaller clytrine leaf beetle species, and I also collected two tiny bees in the flower of Penstemon sp. (blue) for Mike. Finally, when I returned to the car I noticed the characteristically “flagged” branch of a small Quercus gambelii that had been pruned by a cerambycid larva. I peered inside the hole at the cut end of the branch and saw the culprite inside, so I collected the branch and trimmed it to bring it back for rearing. By now it was getting into the evening hours and there seemed to be little other insect activity going on, so we made the one-hour drive to Navajo Lake State Park—keeping our fingers crossed that the holiday crush had subsided and that we would be able to find a nice campsite (preferably with shade!).
Cottonwood Campground Navajo Lake State Park San Juan County, New Mexico The campground as a whole was less than impressive—typical of state park campgrounds that look more like a suburban neighborhood than remote wilderness. It was nearly full, but a few spots remained at the back of the area. Remarkably, these were some of the most delightful spots in the entire campground—ensconced within a grove of large cottonwood trees and well isolated from the cluster of RVs and giant pickup trucks (mostly white, with giant wheels of course) populating the bulk of the campground. After setting up camp and cooking “dirty burgers” for dinner, I walked the campground loop to look for beetles crawling on the road and attracted to the lights at the restrooms. There was not much at the lights, only one sculptured tenebrionid and one nondescript elaterid (along with numbers of a small melolinthine, which I did not collect); and I found two Tenebrionidae walking the road near the restroom and our campsite. [Edit: the “sculptured tenebrionid” turned out to be a great find—Trogloderus verpus, described recently by Andrew Johnston.] Tomorrow will be another driving day, with about six hours to go before reaching our next destination—Mills Canyon in northeastern New Mexico.
Trogloderus verpus (family Tenebrionidae) attracted to incandescent building light at night in cottonwood woodland. This species was described in 2019 by Andrew Johnston.
Armadillidium vulgare (common pill woodlouse—order Isopoda) attracted to incandescent building light at night in cottonwood woodland.
Day 16
The drive from Navajo Lake to Mills Canyon was by any definition the most memorable of the trip. It was a study of contrasts, from remote mountain forests and barren high plains to dramatic canyon descents that dumped us out rather abruptly onto the western reaches of the vast Great Plains. There was also drama—some of it self-made and some of it thrust upon us. Leaving Navajo Lake State Park, we were a bit concerned to find no open gas stations in nearby Navajo City, and with no cell service anywhere in the area we had to rely on an old road atlas to plan our route. A wrong turn before we figured this out didn’t help, but the gauge still indicated we had sufficient fuel to make it to a “town” about halfway to Dulce with plenty to spare. Getting onto Hwy 64, we quickly came upon a trio of vehicles led by an old pickup truck driving far below the speed limit and veering worrisomely from side to side on the winding, mountain road. Passing was impossible with the continuous double yellow lines, so we settled into fourth position and watched with increasing concern as the truck shortcut every leftward curve, blind or not and sometimes completely crossing the double yellow, and ran partially or completely off the right bank with every rightward curve of the road. Calling 911 was an impossibility with the complete lack of cell service, so we helplessly followed for mile after mile hoping and praying that we wouldn’t be forced to witness a most horrific head-on collision or tumbling rollover off the right bank. At various times the truck would speed up, seemingly without reason and often well exceeding the posted speed limit to disappear off in the distance, only to slow back down to well under the speed limit and reform the caravan of worried witnesses. To make matters worse, the “town” halfway to Dulce did not exist—we reached it to find only an arroyo and leaving us biting our lips whether we would reach Dulce—about 15 miles beyond the “zero” mark on my fuel gauge! The truck sped on ahead for much of the latter half of the drive to Dulce, allowing us to worry only about our fuel situation and devise action plans should we run out of fuel short of town and with no cell service, and when we hit the zero mark 15 miles from town the real sweating began. With about five miles to go, we quickly came upon the truck, once again driving at a snail’s pace and veering just as badly as ever from side to side. It did give us something else to worry about, but I was happy to drive slowly to maximize fuel efficiency, and the long final descent into town further helped in that regard. I was elated to make it into town but then horrified to see the truck make the same turns we were making and then slowly crawl into the first available service station—would I really run out of gas just short of the pump because of this guy?! Fortunately that did not happen, and I could only let out a sigh of relief as I was finally able to get out from behind the slowly crawling truck and zip up next to a pump. The truck ambled into the bay next to us, and we were anxious to see if the driver was somehow impaired or merely drunk! Much was explained as we watched the most elderly of men slowly exit the vehicle, oblivious to everything around him, and pop the hood of his truck. As we gassed up, a police vehicle pulled up in front of the truck, and the officer driving asked the elderly gentleman if everything was okay. I didn’t eavesdrop further, but when the officers appeared satisfied with their conversation and about to drive off, I discretely motioned for them to come over. I explained what we had seen for the past hour plus following the old man all the way from Navajo Lake, generating enough concern on the police officers’ part that they not only again made contact with the man but also called a backup unit. We did not get to see how things turned out—the officers told us we were free to leave, but hopefully they were able to reach a family member or friend that could come to the old man’s aid and get him off the road. I felt sorry for the old man, but at the same time we very probably prevented an accident that could have injured or even killed somebody, whether it be the old man himself or another motorist through no fault of their own. Freshly gassed up and all drama now over, we continued east. The village of Taos offered some entertainment—“green” housing developments west of town were a marked contrast to the ramshackle used bus/camper neighborhoods that preceded them, a gathering of artists’ kiosks at a rest stop just outside town offered a chance to view local talent (I couldn’t pass up the aspen burl carved to a sheep skull!), and the city of Taos itself merged adobe-themed architecture with artsy-fartsy flair.
Artists’ market outside of Taos, New Mexico.
The work of one artist—faces carved into wood burls—caught my interest.
We have a winner—sheep’s head made from an aspen burl.
The transition back into the Great Plains marked a dramatic change in scenery, and we watched entire thundercloud systems bloom at various points in the distance—one seemingly in the area of our destination. It passed over us just as we stopped to replenish groceries in nearby Springer, and I hoped against hope that we would not arrive late in the afternoon to a drenched landscape with insect activity already having ceased for the day. The rain held off as we got closer and closer, although a bull snake (Pituophis catenifer sayi) did defiantly hinder our path as we neared our destination.
Thunderstorms in the distance.
Pituophis catenifer sayi (bullsnake) crossing the road in shortgrass prairie (and not pleased with our trespass!).
When we arrived at the canyon we checked out the Rim Campground above the canyon and then the Canyon Campground down below. The road down the canyon was narrow and rocky but afforded some spectacular views of what essentially is the edge of a large break from the plateau above and the plains below. After looking around the canyon bottom (and seeing another bull snake that was even more cantankerous than the one we’d seen atop the plateau), we decided that the floral diversity above was more interesting and, thus, would give better odds for insect collecting.
The Canadian River cuts deep into Mill Canyon.
Another ornery bullsnake!
Mill Rim Campground Kiowa National Grassland Harding County, New Mexico By the time we reached the campground back on top of the canyon, thunderclouds had moved ominously close and repeated flashes of lightning followed closely by cracks of thunder forced us to sit in the car until the feeling of danger had passed. Once it did, we started exploring the immediate vicinity of the campsite, although the fresh rain—in my experience usually a killer of insect activity if it happens late in the afternoon, gave me little reason to be optimistic. I noticed an enticingly freshly dead Pinus edulis at the edge of our campsite, walked up to it, and whacked to one of its branches over my beating sheet. Off fell a fine Alaus lusciosus—a species I have not collected before, and closer inspection of the tree revealed not only several cicadas (Hadoa duryi) on its branches, but also a couple of Zopherus concolor on its trunk. (I would come back to this tree repeatedly over the rest of the evening and the next day!)
Alaus lusciosus (Texas eyed click beetle—family Elateridae) on trunk of standing, recently-dead Pinus edulis after rain in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Hadoa duryi (orange-and-black cicada—family Cicadidae) on trunk of standing, recently-dead Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Zopherus concolor (family Zopheridae) on trunk of standing, recently-dead Pinus edulis after rain in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
As I was searching the tree, I saw a Buprestis sp. land on and run up the trunk of the tree before quickly taking flight to a nearby living tree. With this, I decided to start beating the various living trees around the campsite, trying the one I’d seen the Buprestis fly to (which yielding nothing) before moving to another nearby tree and seeing a fine B. consularis land on my sheet! This is another species I’ve not collected before [Edit: I now think it possible or even likely that the species is actually B. laeviventris], but despite continued beating I never got another one after that. (I suspect it may have been the same individual that I saw on the dead tree and that species was near the end of its activity period due to the lateness of the hour.)
Buprestis consularis/laeviventris (family Buprestidae) beaten from living Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Beating other trees also was fruitless, the only thing of interest being a single clerid beetle beaten from a living branch of Quercus×undulata. Flowers seemed abundant around the campsite, but the only beetle I found on them was the quite pedestrian Batyle ignicollis on Ratibida tagetes. It seemed clear that the combination of rain and a sinking sun had put an end to much of the insect activity in the area. With that, we set up camp and then kicked back for a bit before cooking dinner.
Gorgeous colors announce the setting sun.
Eastern skies still ominous and threatening!
Despite the prior rain, I was strongly considering setting up the lights—the temperatures seemed like they were not cooling off too much, and the continued threat of storms from surrounding cloud systems combined with a finally-past-full moon created a situation that I’ve often found is conducive to bringing insects to the lights.
Mercury-vapor and ultraviolet lights humming as an unsettled evening descends into darkness.
In addition to setting up the lights (both mercury-vapor and ultraviolet), I also got out the prionic acid lure (that Paul had given me) and placed it on the table at dusk. Almost immediately, a large male Prionus californicus came flying into the campsite, landed near the lure, and crawled about frantically while erratically waving its antennae trying to locate what it thought was a calling female. Several more males flew into the campsite over the next half-hour before darkness fell completely and I put the lure away.
Prionus californicus (family Cerambycidae) male attracted to prionic acid lure at dusk in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
By now the lights had caused a fair gathering of insects to amass on the sheet, but other than a rather abundant small melolonthine scarab they were almost all moths—temps were not quite high enough to “bring the beetles.” There were two exceptions—one minor (another male P. californicus), and one major (a male P. emarginatus, first time collecting the species for me!).
Prionus emarginatus (family Cerambycidae) male attracted to UV/MV lights in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Oh, and remember that dead P. edulis in the campsite? I not only collected several more Z. concolor from its trunks and branches after dark but also a nice series of Eutrichillus neomexicanus. Considering how un-optimistic I was regarding our collecting prospects for the spot after arriving so late in the day—and after rain at that, it was an incredible stretch of good collecting for the spot!
Automeris zephyria (zephyr eyed silkmoth—family Saturniidae) at mercury vapor/ultraviolet light in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Day 17
Our original plan after arriving yesterday had been to see how collecting was in the area and then make a decision whether to remain (if the collecting was good) or travel further east into the Texas panhandle) to one of several state parks that had caught my interest. The collecting we experienced yesterday—obviously—warranted continued collecting for at least another day, so rather than tearing down camp to get back on the road we were able to leisurely enjoy our morning coffee before striking out. My first target was the dead P. edulis right in our campsite that had produced so many interesting insects yesterday. Inspection of its trunk and branches revealed more of the cicadas (Hadoa duryi) that were abundant in the area, a few of which I collected, and beating its branches produced yet another series of E. neomexicanus.
Eutrichillus neomexicanus (family Cerambycidae) on trunk of standing, recently-dead Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
I would return to this tree repeatedly during the day hoping to see more Buprestis consularis/laeviventris, and in the late afternoon I finally got my wish as several individuals visited the tree and searched along its trunk.
Buprestis consularis/laeviventris (family Buprestidae) on trunk of standing, recently-dead Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Buprestis consularis/laeviventris (family Buprestidae) on trunk of standing, recently-dead Pinus edulis in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
In the meantime, I began searching other campsites in the campground to see if I could find other P. edulis at the right stage of “deadness.” None were found, but I did find an old dead P. edulis stump that exhibited Buprestis-sized emergence holes and from which I chopped the remnants (prothorax and elytra) of an adult B. consularis that had failed to emerge. The first flower-visiting insects of the day were found when I wandered over to a small water tank with lush vegetation around its margins. Acmaeodera sp. nr. mixta/immaculata, and a chrysomelid beetle were taken on a flower of Engelmannia peristenia, and Paranapiacaba tricincta (in outbreak numbers) and several melyrid beetles were swept from vegetation near Cucurbita foetidissima in full bloom.
Burnsius communis (common checkered skipper—family Hesperiidae) on flower of Engelmannia persistencia in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Even more beetles were collected on the other side of the pond, where flowers of Ratibida columnifera produced more of the same Acmaeodera along with Batyle ignicollis, B. suturalis, a single Typocerus confluens, and several melyrid beetles, bees, and wasps. Another B. ignicollis was also collected on the flower of Hymenopappus tenuifolius.
Typocerus confluens (family Cerambycidae) on flower of Ratibida columnifera in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Pterocheilusquinquefasciatus (family Vespidae) on flower of Ratibidacolumnifera in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Perdita (Cockerellia) sp. (family Andrenidae) on flower of Ratibida columnifera in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Papilio multicaudata (two-tailed swallowtail—family Papilionidae) on flower of Cirsium undulatum in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
After looking at most the flowers in the area, I notice tiger beetles running in a barren wet ditch running from the pond towards the road. Catching several of them revealed two species present: Cicindelidia punctulata (most exhibiting the green coloration of subspecies C. p. chihuahuae) and C. sedecimpunctata.
Cicindelidia punctulata chihuahuae (Chihuahua tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) in wet ditch in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Cicindela sedecimpunctata (western red-bellied tiger beetle—family Cicindelidae) in wet ditch in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland.
Just as I was finishing up with the tiger beetles, a huge beetle flew into the area. It was so large it sounded like a diesel engine in flight, and after getting a good glimpse at it I realized it was Prionus heroicus! I collected this species during my previous visit to this spot (some 10 years ago) using prionic acid lures to attract them, and I suspect in this case the beetle was attracted to residual prionic acid on my hands after handling the lure last night.
Prionus heroicus (family Cerambycidae) attracted to prionic acid lure during the afternoon in pinyon/juniper/oak woodland. Prionuscalifornicus and P. emarginatus also occur at this site; however, they are active during dusk (former) or at night (latter).
The area outside the fence surrounding the campground (and subject to grazing) didn’t look too interesting, so I walked through the campground back to our campsite to try my luck in a large grassland area south of the campground but still inside the fence line. Along the way I saw a “flagged” dying branch that had been broken (perhaps by a camper) and was hanging off a living P. edulis—beating it produced a fine Monochamus clamator and several Enoclerus sp. (prob. E. lecontei), and right at the edge of our campsite I noticed a few small blooming Sphaeralcea coccinea and collected Acmaeodera sp. mixta/immaculata, Agrilus sp., Enoclerus sp., and clytrine leaf beetles off their flowers. In the grassland area itself, I found several patches of Engelmannia peristenia in flower and collected several more of the Acmaeodera off their flowers along with occasional curculionoid weevils, meloids, and mordellids (the former for Bob Anderson, the second for Jeff Huether, and the latter for Enrique Ruzzier). As I searched the grassland, P. heroicus males continued to approach me in flight, and I captured also an Ospriocerus sp. robber fly. Other flowers were also encountered in different areas: the flowers of Thelesperma megapotamicum produced more Acmaeodera, and those of Ratibida columnifera produced the same along with a few mordellids and bees for Enrique and Mike. Mike had spent much of the past few hours in a sandstone barren on the west side of the campground, so I wandered over reasoning that he must be having good success. He was, and alerted me to a few interesting plants that might be good beetle hosts. I saw one of these right away—Melampodium leucanthum, flowers of which produced an interesting (and still unidentified) Acmaeodera earlier this spring in nearby Black Mesa, Oklahoma. Checking them produced not only the same Acmaeodera that I was collecting off the other other flowers, but also A. ligulata(?) (if it is that species, it must be a northeastern extension to its known range in southern New Mexico and Arizona). More A. ligulata(?) were collected on the flower of Tetraneuris acaulis as well as Opuntia polyacantha along with Euphoria kernii and Enoclerus sp. I normally never see Acmaeodera in flowers of cholla (Cylindropuntia), but in this case I did find one A. sp. mixta/immaculata on the flower of C. imbricata. Having thoroughly searched the sandstone barren and seeing all that it had to offer, I walked over to the canyon top to enjoy the scenery and see what insects I might find in the area.
Atop Mill Canyon.
There was not much going on florally; however, I encountered a half-dead P. edulis and beat a Phaenops piniedulis from on of its dead branches. This is another species that seems far northeast of its normal range, but I have previously collected this species even further northeast at Gloss Mountain State Park in northwestern Oklahoma (publication pending)! We had seen some flowers along the roadside leading down the canyon, so I walked the upper canyon road to see if if there was anything on them. There was not, but when I turned back I encountered another P. heroicus—this one was perched on the branch of a small Quercus×undulatus. I suppose it is possible that it was attracted to the prionic acid residue on my hands and landed there unnoticed, but I’m now beginning to think all this diurnal activity is normal and has nothing to do with the prionic acid lures I handled the night before. At one point along the road, I encountered a few oak trees that must be Q. grisea (gray oak), a species I am familiar with from west Texas and from which I have collected many buprestids. Beating the living branches did produce one buprestid—Agrilaxia sp. (perhaps A. texana), but dang it I missed it! Continued beating failed to produce more but did produce a very nice series of Alaus lusciosus and a Lichenophanes sp., and nearing the top of the canyon I was again buzzed by a couple of P. heroicus males. The last insect I encountered before calling it for the afternoon was a single Moneilema armatum that I found on Opuntia phaeacantha—I had been checking Opuntia all day looking for Moneilema, and finally I found one!
A sinking sun in upper Mill Canyon.
Later in the evening, after processing the day’s catch and cooking dinner, I elected not to set up the lights due to the now quite windy conditions. This was a bit disappointing, as I was hopeful I could catch more Prionus emarginatus to go along with the single individual I had collected the night before. Instead, I decided to check the dead P. edulis in our campsite as well as the half-dead one over by the canyon top to see what might be on them at night. Only E. neomexicanus was found on the branches of the tree in our campsite, but no more Zopherus concolor (several of which I’d found on the tree the night before) were found. On the half-dead tree, however, I did find a couple of Z. concolor along with E. neomexicanus on its branches.
Sunset at Mill Rim Campground.
Venus shines brightly in the western sky.
Day 18
The next morning, Mike gave me a few beetles that he’d collected the day before—these included one A. ligulata(?) and one A. sp. mixta/immaculata that he’d collected on the flower of Xanthisma spinulosum and a couple of clytrine leaf beetles that he’d on the stem of Eriogonum tenellum. After we broke camp, I cut up a portion of the standing dead P. edulis in our campsite on which I had found Buprestis consularis and so many other beetles, taking home three bolts of the trunk (2–4” diameter) and five bolts of the main branches (1–2”) for rearing. (As I bundled up the wood, I could actually hear Monochamus larvae munching on the wood inside thetrunk.) There was much more wood left from the tree that I could’ve taken home, but there simply wasn’t enough room so I had to leave it. I hated the thought of the next campers coming to this campground, occupying this site, and finding the leftover wood… then burning it! I also hated the idea of leaving this place, since the insect collecting had been so fantastic. We were, however, nearing the final days of the trip, and if nothing else I wanted to see Copper Breaks State Park in Texas as a potential locality for Cylindera celeripes (swift tiger beetle).
It was another 6-hour driving day as we continued on our way back east towards what would prove to be the final collecting locality of the trip. Driving south through northeastern New Mexico was just as interesting (in a desolate sort of way) as the areas we’d already gone through, but as soon as we reached I-10 East and entered Texas, the landscape became a monotonous expanse of unbroken plains, with little other than seemingly endless windmill farms to provide fodder for conversation until we reached the city of Amarillo—apparently nothing more than a long strip along the highway populated by chain business in strip malls. Past Amarillo, our route (mercifully!) took us off the interstate onto equally monotonous roads until we neared our destination and began seeing “breaks” in the landscape. As we neared our the park we were greeted by juniper woodlands on a broken, undulating landscape that contrasted dramatically with the featureless scenery that led us there. It was almost as if we were at the edge of another plateau, like at Mill Canyon—albeit on a much smaller scale, giving me some optimism about our prospects for finding interesting insects.
Copper Breaks State Park HardemanCounty, Texas We arrived at the park just after the headquarters had closed and followed the road down into a riparian corridor to Kiowa Campground, where we found the perfect spot in a completely deserted campground. Getting out of the vehicle was like entering a sauna—gone was the cool, dry mountain air to which we had become accustomed over the past two weeks, replaced by thick, humid, warm air that saturated everything. At the same time, I was greeted by the sound of one of my favorite insects—Neocicada superbus (superb dog-day cicada) males singing on trunks/branches of a grove of Sapindus drummondii near our campsite! I first encountered this Texas/Oklahoma specialty in the White River Hills of extreme southwestern Missouri back in the early 1980s, its sumptuous lime-green coloration and male song sounding like a chainsaw quickly elevating it to iconic status. Despite visiting the White River Hills frequently, I’ve only been there a few times during the right season to hear their distinctive song filling the air, so hearing and seeing them so abundantly in this location was, for me, a nice start.
Neocicada superbus (superb dog-day cicada—family Cicadidae) on trunk of Sapindus drummondii (soapberry) in riparian open woodland.
Exuvia, presumably belonging to Neotibicen superbus (superb dog-day cicada), which were the only dog-day cicadas singing in the area. The exuvia is fresh, and all adults seen look freshly emerged.
As dusk settled, I started setting up the lights hoping the warm, humid air and now moonless sky would result in some awesome insect collecting. A pesky storm system to the west, however, was drawing ever closer, and when winds started whipping I knew it was a lost cause and rushed to disassemble everything before the rain hit. It only rained a little bit, but it was enough to kill the blacklighting(!), and once the worst had passed I went over to the nearby restrooms to see if their incandescent building lights had attracted anything of interest. I picked up a few Canthon sp., elaterids, and carabids from under the lights and photographed a very large and impressive Ummidia audouini (Audouin’s trapdoor spider) on the cement-block wall, then turned my attention to checking tree trunks and finding only a few tenebrionid and clerid beetles on them before turning in for the night.
Centruroides vittatus (striped bark scorpion—family Buthidae) preying on a cockroach nocturnally on a tree trunk in open riparian woodland.
Ummidia audouini (Audouin’s trapdoor spider—family Halonoproctidae) at building light in open riparian woodland.
Ummidia audouini (Audouin’s trapdoor spider—family Halonoproctidae) at building light in open riparian woodland.
Day 19
Our plan for today was simple—see if the insect collecting was good enough to warrant spending the day here, or if it was not make an early call to abort and head towards the Wichita Mountains in Oklahoma to complete the last day of insect collecting for the trip. It mattered not much to me in terms of driving back to St. Louis the next day—the 10-hour drive it would be from here was reasonable, so it really depended upon how the morning collecting went. I went with Mike to a breaks area just across the road from the campground where he wanted to set out bowl traps and explored the area. I was on the lookout for Cylindera celeripes (swift tiger beetle), which has not been seen in Texas since the 1930s near Wichita Falls—Dan Duran and I regarded this area to be the best possible refuge for them in the state, at least based on Google Earth photos. I was also in the lookout for any flowers that might attract beetles. In regards to the former, I became less optimistic about finding the tiger beetle here after seeing the habitat in person—it had the same gypsum-capped clay substrate where I’ve seen the tiger beetle further north in Oklahoma, but the gypsum was much more “broken” and eroded and lacked the large expanses of level ground that the beetles seem to need. In regards to the latter, the only blooming plants that I saw, at least with potential for beetles on them, was Helianthus annuus, from which I collected a few Batyle suturalis (and a few bees for Mike). I also found on the foliage of the plant an adult female Neobarrettia spinosa (red-eyed devil)—one of the most terrifyingly impressive (and appropriately named) katydids you’ll ever see! Not much else seemed to be going on in the area, and I had noticed many of the hackberries (Celtis reticulata) in the campground area were half-dead and bearing visible damage to their trunks and branches caused by longhorned beetles. I approached several of them, at first finding nothing on their trunks but eventually scaring up a couple of Chrysobothris sp. (prob. C. caddo) on thr lower trunk of one of the dying ones [2023-69b]. I continued around the outer campground area checking other dead/dying hackberries along the way and eventually happened along a few patches of Grindelia ciliata hosting small treehoppers (Vanduzea segmentata) in the upper stem leaf axils of the plants and being tended by even tinier ants. I was not aware there were other species in the genus besides V. arquata (which I’ve seen commonly on their exclusive host, Robinia pseudoacacia [black locust]), so I collected a series of the treehoppers along with a few of their protector ants.
Vanduzea segmentata (family Membracidae) adults and nymphs tended by ants on Grindelia ciliata (Spanish gold) in roadside vegetation along dry creek.
After searching a few more hackberry trees (unsuccessfully), I came upon one that was half-dead with a dead major branch coming out of its trunk. Something about it said “chop me” (I think it was the interface between living and dead wood—often a good place for woodboring beetle larvae to develop), and I began chipping away at the dead wood hoping to encounter larval galleries. Shortly enough, I did encounter a decent-sized cerambycid larva in the wood—it seemed large enough to be mature, so I put it in a vial with some pieces of wood with a thought to try to rear it to adulthood. That became less important when I encountered a pupa of presumably the same species—I put that in a vial with wood dust as well, opining that I would have a better possibility of rearing an adult from a pupa than a larva. Continued chipping away at the wood finally revealed a teneral adult cerambycid in its pupal cell—easily identifiable as Eburia haldemani (another species I have never collected before). I would eventually chop a second adult from the wood as well and then collect the remaining piece of wood for in-host rearing.
Eburia haldemani (family Cerambycidae) unemerged teneral adult exposed in pupal cell in dead trunk wood of half-live Celtis reticulata.
By this time it was heating up and I needed some water, so I went back to the campsite before heading down to the Juniper Ridge Nature Trail, which I reasoned may have the best potential habitat for finding C. celeripes (if the species did, indeed, occur here). Along the way, I passed a large stump of C. reticulata that looked about the right age for developing woodboring beetle larvae, so I began chipping at the wood hoping to encounter Texania fulleri, a handsome buprestid that I’ve encountered only once before (in the trunk of a large, dead hackberry outside of San Antonio). I did not encounter that species, but I did encounter two more teneral adult E. haldemani as well as a second pupa, which I placed into individual vials for hardening (the adults) and emergence (the pupa).
Eburia haldemani (family Cerambycidae) pupa (ventral) cut from pupal cell in large dead stump of Celtis reticulata.
Eburia haldemani (family Cerambycidae) pupa (dorsal) cut from pupal cell in large dead stump of Celtis reticulata.
Reaching the nature trail, I started exploring the rugged, up-and-down “breaks” terrain looking for any sign of C. celeripes. Again, the more I looked, the less I believed that this was a good locality for the species due to the highly eroded nature of the substrate with no unbroken, level expanses.
A broken badlands of gullies, mesas, and juniper “breaks.”
“Ripples” in Permian red sandstone and mudstone laid down by a vast inland sea are evidence of ancient wave action.
I was, however, finding flowers in bloom, and on them beetles. The most abundantly blooming plants were Melampodium leucanthum (blackfoot daisy)—previously seen to be a good Acmaeodera flower, and over the next couple of hours traversing the trail and exploring it’s off-trail nooks and crannies I collected a very nice series of A. obtusa along with a few Trichodes bibalteatus and mordellid beetles (the latter for Enrique) off its flowers.
Acmaeodera obtusa (family Buprestidae) on flower of Melampodium leucanthum (blackfoot daisy) in juniper woodland.
Tetraneuris acaulis (stemless four-nerve daisy), another good Acmaeodera host, was also blooming, though much less abundantly than M. leucanthum, and I collected a few A. obtusa on its flowers as well. As I traversed the circuitous route through juniper woodland, male cicadas sang in the juniper trees, but consistently went silent on my approach before screeching noisily as they bolted and flew to another, usually very far away tree! I tried three times to catch one before finally succeeding. The species turned out to be Diceroprocta texana, a species I have collected before in the Monahans Sandhills of west Texas.
Diceroprocta texana (family Cicadidae) male singing in juniper tree in juniper woodland.
I also became fixated on collecting two of the robber flies that I was seeing—the mydas fly-mimicking Ospriocerus abdominalis, and the giant Microstylum galacticum, eventually succeeding in catching a couple in flight. Near the end of the trail I found a dead Chrysobothris sp. dead on ground, presumably it is C. caddo. There were no host trees anywhere near—perhaps it was dropped by a Cerceris fumipennis wasp that had captured and paralyzed it? At the southmost part of the trail there was a large patch of Gaillardia pulchella, which I had not seen on other parts of the trail. There weren’t many insects visiting its flowers, but I did collect another A. obtusa off of it.
Crotaphytus collaris (eastern collared lizard—family Crotaphytidae) on gypsum/clay breaks in juniper woodland.
By this point, I was really hot and dehydrated—any further collecting would have to wait until after I went back to the campsite and rejuvenated myself! Even that would have to wait, as I found several interesting insects right as I entered the campsite, the first being a dead Megatibicen dealbatus (plains cicada) on the ground at base of a large Populus deltoides (cottonwood) beside our tent. At first I thought it was M. dorsatus (prairie cicada—with which I am familiar from my boyhood collecting days outside of Kansas City), but I quickly determined its true identity after consulting online sources as yet another species I have never collected before now.
Megatibicen dealbatus (plains cicada—family Cicadidae) found dead at base of a cottonwood tree in juniper/mesquite woodland.
As I was putting the cicada in a vial, I noticed the distinctive black/white of a female Plectrodera scalator (cottonwood borer) chewing on the exposed root of the same cottonwood tree—this was also photographed and then put in a vial.
Plectrodera scalator (cottonwood borer—family Cerambycidae) chewing on exposed root of large Populus deltoides (eastern cottonwood) in campground.
Finally, I noticed the a flash of metallic green at the base of the trunk of a Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia) in our campsite, immediately recognizable as indicating the presence of the über-charismatic Plinthocoelium suaveolens suaveolens (bumelia borer) [2023-69o]. Even though I have seen this species many times (and trapped literally hundreds of them over the years from dolomite glades across southern Missouri), they were for many years before that my “white whale,” and I still never tire of seeing them.
Plinthocoelium suaveolens suaveolens (bumelia borer—family Cerambycidae) on base of trunk of Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia) in picnic area.
By now it was apparent that there was more than enough of interest here to justify further exploration, making the decision whether to stay or to go an easy one. After resting, rehydrating, and refueling, I went back over to the adjacent group picnic area where I had seen additional gum bumelia trees this morning. I found not only another individual but also a mating pair of P. suaveolens (one of the pair got away). Movement around a nearby grove of C. reticulata caught my attention, and I realized it was a large Stenelytrana gigas (gigas longhorned beetle) flying around one of the standing dead trunks in the grove. I made a beeline for the grove (at least as much a beeline that these old legs can make now), and somehow managed to net it, then monitored the trunk for a while and picked off a couple more C. caddo and a Chariessa pilosa (pilose checkered beetle) that landed on it.
Stenelytrana gigas (gigas longhorned beetle—family Cerambycidae) taken in flight around a standing dead Celtis reticulata (net-leaved hackberry) in picnic area.
When I reached the dying C. reticulata that I’d collected two C. caddo on this morning, there were many more on it as well as on a nearby tree—allowing me to collect quite a nice series, as well as C. pilosa and Neoclytus mucronatus.
Chrysobothris caddo (family Buprestidae) male searching on trunk of dying Celtis reticulata (net-leaved hackberry) in picnic area.
Chrysobothris caddo (family Buprestidae) female ovipositing on trunk of dying Celtis reticulata (net-leaved hackberry) in picnic area.
Promachus hinei (family Asilidae) preying on Asterocampa celtis (hackberry emperor butterfly) in campground.
On the way back to the campground, Mike called my attention to another P. scalator that was in the act of ovipositing at the base of another large cottonwood in the campground and said that he’d found two more while I was gone. We watched the female complete oviposition, then I looked for more at the bases of other cottonwoods throughout the general campground area, finding three more for a total series of seven individuals—by far the most individuals of this species that I have seen at one time!
Plectrodera scalator (cottonwood borer—family Cerambycidae) female ovipositing in soil at base of trunk of large Populus deltoides (eastern cottonwood) in campground.
After another break for an ice run into town and a delicious “last supper” of some of the thickest brats I’ve ever had (jalapeño and cheddar, grilled of course, with lots of mustard!), I turned on the lights and hoped for a successful final collecting act for the trip. This was only the second night (out of 19!) that I was able to run the lights for nighttime insects—every other night it was either too cold, too windy (usually both), and it was especially frustrating last night after getting stormed out just as I began to set things up. The night did not disappoint! Insects starting coming in right away, the most notable early catches being another M. dealbatus and several individuals of a tiny cicada (perhaps Pacarina puella?), a specimen of which I had tried to salvage from a spider web earlier in the day but which fell apart as I was doing so. In addition to the overwhelmingly abundant N. superbus, this gave me four species of cicadas from the park. Tiger beetles featured prominently also—in addition to several Cicindelidia punctulata (expected), I also collected several Ellipsoptera cuprascens/macra, a couple of Tetracha carolina, and one Eunota circumpicta (I was disappointed, however, in my repeated failure to collect a Eunota togata that kept appearing at the light and then eluding my bottle!). Around 11:00 I turned off the MV light (to allow the UVs to pull in the shyer species) and walked over to the picnic area where I had collected so many C. caddo off of half-dead C. reticulata. This also did not disappoint, as I collected not only a diversity of longhorned beetles such as Amniscus sexguttata and Elytrimitatrix undatus but three individuals of Eburia haldemani—now I had more than just the teneral adults that I’d chopped out of the trees earlier in the day. Walking back to the UV light, there was not only another E. haldemani at the light but also another P. scalator along with several other longhorned beetle species. I probably could have continued going for another couple of hours, but it was approaching midnight and I was exhausted. I turned in knowing that I got to experience a fantastic final insect collecting act for the trip!
Aphonopelma armada (Texas black spot tarantula—family Theraphosidae) attracted to MV/UV light in cottonwood woodland.
Day 20
The drive back to St. Louis (Day 20) was typically boring—long stretches of travel on interstate highways with no prospect of a cool native habitat to look forward to. However, it provided time to reflect on the successes and frustrations of the trip, muse over some of the humorous experiences we’d had, and contemplate where we might want to go in future excursions. At 8:00 p.m. (after 4,519 miles and 92½ hours in the vehicle), I pulled into my driveway, unloaded the vehicle, and bade adieu to Mike—for the time being!
Today the WGNSS Botany Group visited Little Lost Creek Conservation Area to see Dirca palustris (eastern leatherwood) in bloom. Leatherwood is a distinctive, slow-growing shrub that occurs sporadically in primarily the Ozark and Ozark Border region of Missouri. Like the much more Lindera benzoin (common spicebush), the flowers open in spring before the foliage appears, during which time the planta are easily identified by the pendulous blooms surrounded by wooly bracts. The species has toxic properties and was used by First Americans as an emetic, and it has been cultivated for many years despite its sporadic natural occurrence. As the name implies (palustris means “growing in a swamp”), the plant grows in moist (though not necessarily swampy) habitats, and as such we would have to hike across the dry-mesic upland deciduous forest and down into the riparian forests along Little Lost Creek where the plant can be found.
With sharply warmer temperatures arriving yesterday after a rather protracted cool period, the early-flowering trees and shrubs were ready and waiting, seemingly popping open before our very eyes. A patch of Prunus americana (American plum) in a more open area along the trail caught our attention, it’s blooms just beginning to open. We based our identification on the shrubby growth habit and apparently clonal nature of the stand of plants, which distinguishes P. americana from the closely related P. mexicana (Mexican plum), which generally grows as more tree-like individual plants.
Prunus americana (American plum).
Also in the more open areas along the trail was Rhus aromatica (fragrant sumac) in full bloom. I stopped to examine one particular individual with especially dense clusters of inflorescences and noticed movement on the flowers. Closer examination revealed a crab spider (family Thomisidae) which I took to be Mecaphesa asperata (northern crab spider)—perfectly camouflaged on the bright yellow flowers and awaiting the arrival of an unsuspecting bee or other pollinator.
Mecaphesa asperata (northern crab spider) on on flower of Rhus aromatica (fragrant sumac).
As the trail veered directly into the forest, I noticed several butterfly species—a Vanessa atalanta (red admiral) that paused briefly on the trail before bolting erratically into the distance, several Eurytides marcellus (zebra swallowtail), presumably males patrolling for females among stands of the still leafless Asimina triloba (pawpaw) which it utilizes as a larval host, and—most interesting for me—several Anthocharis midea (falcate orangetip) which, for the time being, frustratingly refused to perch and allow even an attempt at a photograph.
As the trail began the long descent into the valley and the forest became increasingly mesic, spring ephemerals began appearing on the forest floor in abundance. Most abundant was Claytonia virginica (spring beauty) and Cardamine concatenata (cutleaf toothwort), which have been in bloom for some time now, but finally making their appearance as well were Sanguinaria canadensis (bloodroot)—the first seen being a charming little patch nestled against a rock—a single blooming plant among the stands of Erythronium albidum (white trout lily), and several still-unblooming Trillium sp. (wakerobin).
Sanguinaria canadensis (bloodroot).
Erythronium albidum (white trout lily).
Trillium sp. (wakerobin).
At last we reached the valley floor, and immediately the leatherwood plants were seen in abundance and in full bloom. Leatherwood plants in bloom are not among the showiest of blooming shrubs, but the distinctiveness of their flowers, sporadic occurrence, and lack of close relatives provided ample botanical interest that resulted in me spending a fair bit of time observing and photographing them.
Dirca palustris (eastern leatherwood).
Dirca palustris (eastern leatherwood).
As I looked at the leatherhood, I encountered a an unusual cocoon-like structure at the tip of one of its branches. Closer examination revealed it to be “packed” white tiny, white, grub-like larvae, at which time I noticed the cadaver of a moth caterpillar also clinging to the branch tip. I knew then that the grubs were the mature larvae of a parasitic wasp in the family Braconidae, likely in the subfamily Microgastrinae, that had just exited their host and were spinning cocoons nearby in communal fashion. (Many people have seen one of these wasps in the form of cocoons on the backs of tomato hornworm caterpillars.) Braconid wasps are often quite host specific, but a more specific identification is difficult since the identity of the caterpillar itself or whether it was utilizing Dirca as a host plant are also unknown.
Braconid larvae, possibly subfamily Microgastrinae, spinning communal cocoons after exiting unidentified lepidopteran caterpillar on Dirca palustris.
If the spring ephemerals were abundant during the descent, they were overwhelming in the valley proper. A few blooming plants of Collinsia verna (blue-eyed Mary), a winter annual were seen, their distinctive bicolored white and blue flowers a pleasant contrast to the mostly white to pinkish color of the majority of the ephemerals. Some especially large-flowered individuals of bloodroot were seen underneath a patch of blooming leatherwoods, prompting me to spend a bit more time photographing them. As I was doing so, I found it ironically humorous that I was crouched on the ground photographing what is by all measures a rather common plant while surrounded by a much less frequently encountered plant.
Collinsia verna (blue-eyed Mary).
Sanguinaria canadensis (bloodroot).
Sanguinaria canadensis (bloodroot).
The hike back up out of the valley was long and deliberate, the pitch in some stretches reaching as steep as I ever encounter on trails in the state, but the slow pace allowed an opportunity to look for things missed on the way down. At one point I picked up a fallen oak branch that looked like it might have been pruned by a twig pruner (Anelaphus sp.), a type of longhorned beetle (family Cerambycidae) whose larvae feed within living branches of deciduous trees—primarily oak—and then cut the branch internally before pupation. The cut end is distinctive, and I checked the base of the branch to see if it demonstrated this distinctive cut pattern. It did not, but I explained what I was looking for to a curious member of our group. Just as I finished the explanation, I saw another oak branch laying on the trail, picked it up to examine the base, and, sure enough, it exhibited the cut. I believe the branch is that of black oak (Quercus velutina), and I kept the branch to place within a rearing box so I can see the adult when it emerges later this spring.
Along the final stretch back to the parking lot, the falcate orangetip butterflies continued to torment me with their erratic, never-ending flight. I watched a few after reaching the parking lot, hoping one would alight and give a chance to photograph it, but no such luck. At the edge of the parking lot I noticed some Taraxacum sp. (dandelion) flowers with small insects on them, which turned out to be Acmaeodera tubulus—usually the first jewel beetles (family Buprestidae) to appear in the spring and commonly found on dandelions. I crouched to take a few photographs, and as I was doing so a falcate orangetip butterfly landed on the dandelion flower right next to the one with the beetles I was photographing. I managed to get one shot of the butterfly, it’s wings not well spread out but the orange tips still easily visible, before it took flight again—a nice punctuation to end the outing with.
Acmaeodera tubulus on on flower of Taraxacum sp. (dandelion).
Anthocharis midea (falcate orangetip)on flower of Taraxacum sp. (dandelion).
Beetles In The Bush 