Reflection Rove

Day 279: Reflection Lake is one of Mount Rainier National Park's most notable roadside attractions and as such, the lakeshore wildflowers take a beating from foot traffic despite being behind the numerous "no hiking" signs. Revegetation efforts have been thwarted by the masses of visitors who ignore the signs as they pursue their own agendas (getting a photo of the elusive reflection, picnicking by the water, wading or swimming, illegally fishing, etc.), most with no thought to the damage a single step can inflict in this fragile environment. Over the last two years, our Meadow Rover manager has asked for volunteers to patrol the fore-shore next to the road (the section which takes the most abuse). We don't have nearly enough people for the task, so after checking to be sure there wasn't a pile of paperwork on my desk waiting to be processed, I signed up for a Reflection rove yesterday. I spent five and a half hours pacing back and forth on the same half-mile section of trail, pulling visitors back from the shore and trying to give them some gentle education in resource management.

Most people tend to be cooperative after a moment of initial resistance ("It looked like a trail...I didn't see a sign...Just let me get this one picture...I'll be done in a minute..."), but inevitably, there is always one person who gives you a little guff. Case in point: the guy who had jammed his tripod legs into the leaves of avalanche lilies in order to keep the tripod stable. He didn't immediately comply with my request to move the tripod, but I thought I'd made my point and started to leave the site. I'd gone about twenty feet when something else from the scene registered in my mind. He had had a Gorilla clamp on the stalk of an avalanche lily flower to keep the wind from moving it around. Still willing to give him a few minutes to finish up and move on, I walked another hundred feet or so to the end of my somewhat arbitrary patrol zone and then went back. Sure enough, he had not removed the tripod feet from the leaves, and there was the poor little flower still held in the death-grip of the Gorilla.

As a representative of the Park, I must maintain my equanimity and professionalism when addressing members of the public, regardless of the murderous thoughts swimming 'round in my brain. While mentally placing this single-minded photographer in a similar strangle-hold, I took several minutes to explain the life-cycle of the avalanche lily to him. I imagine he thought I was being excessive. After all, there were thousands of other avalanche lilies in the meadow. But if everyone thought like he apparently thought, i.e., that one flower couldn't matter, pretty soon we'd have no flowers at all. Back and forth, back and forth, covering one-half mile of trail repeatedly, educating one visitor at a time. It's like those wildflowers. One may make all the difference in the world.

Gratuitous Avalanche Lily Photo

Day 281: My lens is almost always trained on the more obscure items in Mount Rainier National Park's botanical census, but most people come to the Park to see wildflowers massed upon the meadows in views like this one taken en route to Snow Lake a few days ago. While most of the Avalanche Lilies (Erythronium montanum) are now setting seed and exhibit the typical triangular pods, there are a few pocket ecologies which are behind the rest and are still filled with massed blooms. This was probably a patch where the snow laid late, sheltered by shrubbery or in shade for most of the day while other areas had melted out earlier. Avalanche lilies are one of the first plants to bloom in the subalpine zone, often poking their heads through an inch or two of snow to put on a show for early-season hikers. As common as they are, their spectacular display is enough to make even this seasoned backpacker stop for the gratuitous Avalanche Lily photo.

Plants Playing Jokes

Day 296: As if identifying plants accurately wasn't already a daunting task, doing so without a flower is even harder. Plants may look quite different when their foliage is just beginning to develop or they are in the budding phase, and likewise when they have gone to seed. Sometimes you stumble across something so unusual that you're certain you've never seen it pictured in a field guide. Such was the case when I pulled up short to examine this specimen.

I never disturb my subject until after I have obtained photos of it in situ, and in any event, I wanted to capture the beads of morning dew, so didn't handle any portion of the plant for fear of shaking the droplets loose. While I danced around searching for the proper angle, I noticed several other leaves with the same strange growth in their centers. The plant was a lupine; that much was certain, but the structure in the middle puzzled me. It was certainly not characteristic of either a pod or bud of the species, but what was it?

Photos "in the bag," I examined the specimen more closely, and in that moment learned that some plants have a very warped sense of humour. I'd been suckered by the teamwork of a Sub-Alpine Lupine and an Avalanche Lily. Plants playing jokes! Now that's something no botanist should have to endure.

Botanizing With Bears

Day 244: Visitors to Mount Rainier National Park should be aware that they may see researchers going about their work in sensitive off-trail areas. A wide range of scientific research projects are being done throughout the Park, including seismic monitoring, air and water quality sampling, rare plant and phenology studies, amphibian studies, documentation of lichens, monitoring of benthic species, glacier and stream studies and so on. In order to obtain a reliable cross-section of data, these scientists often must go where the public is not permitted. In this photo, we see one of the Park's nutritionists test-sampling the corms of Erythronium montanum (Avalanche Lily) for caloric value. Just a reminder: research data can be skewed by a single footfall. Please stay on trail.