Pack's Calypsos

Day 191: Charles L. Pack Experimental Forest ("Pack Forest," for short) is managed by the University of Washington and is, as you might infer, a testing ground for various sustainable forestry practices. It is also a "multi-use" area, meaning that it is open to hikers, horses and hunters, although motorized vehicles are prohibited. However, Pack is not a "nature area," and is not maintained with visitors or habitat preservation in mind. In fact, it is quite weedy, with numerous invasive species, particularly in logged areas. While there are trails, many of them are overgrown and almost impassable, dirt roads form a network which provide walking access to the far corners. I frequently use a trail going one way, a road going the other, forming a loop so I don't have to retrace my footsteps. Day before yesterday, I hiked up the Reservoir Trail to Kirkland Pass, then out the 1000 Rd. to visit the Calypso Orchids. As I approached their embankment, I was dismayed to see that Pack has been clearing the roadside ditches with an excavator. They narrowly missed the Calypsos! And by "narrowly," I mean that this grouping was less than a foot above the gouge. It would have done no good to stop at the office to report my concern for these delicate plants. I am just glad they grow elsewhere, in places where they are protected.

Calypso Corner

Day 204: I wasn't thinking about Calypso orchids when I set out for a hike in Pack Forest yesterday. The plan was to follow the Bud Blancher Trail from Eatonville, then take the Falls Trail and a short section of the 1070 until connecting with the 1000 Rd. Following the 1000 Rd. would take me through the stretch I call "Butterfly Alley" where I hoped to pick up some material for these posts. Second to that was an invasives patrol, to which purpose I had included my GPS and field notebook in my pack. The Falls Trail was muddy and slick, and a warning sign had been placed at the spur to the lower falls saying that the trail was closed due to potential slides, but I hadn't intended to visit the falls and went on by without investigating. The hard-packed dirt roads of Pack Forest were dry as expected, but even with the way being rather warm and sunny, the only butterflies I saw were Cabbage Whites. About halfway up to Kirkland Pass, I said to myself, "Why don't I go out the 2000 to see if there are any Calypsos? It'll only add about half a mile to my hike." Oh, how dim memory is sometimes! It was closer to three-quarters of a mile from the intersection at Kirkland Pass to Calypso Corner, but I'd committed myself to the project, having no butterflies for backup. The Calypsos and I had a nice visit, and I returned via the sloggy, boggy, muddy and messy Reservoir Trail (much muddier than the Falls Trail had been) for a total of 8.5 miles and a notebook full of invasives to report.

Calypso Orchid, Calypso Bulbosa

Day 214: I can always count on Arnie to provide me with reading material on the subject of plants. He's very good at finding snippets of information in research papers I can't access, and comes up with answers (or theories, as the case may be) when I question him about a plant's individual ecology. He also occasionally forwards things he thinks might interest me (they always do), and this morning's contribution was timely. It covered an interesting aspect of Calypso bulbosa, and fits right in with the photo I had planned to use as the basis for today's post.

This lovely little plant is native to the area, although it isn't abundant by any means. It is pollinated by bumblebees, and it goes a long way to attract them. It does so by deceiving them, pretending to offer prizes it does not deliver. Its scent draws bumbles to it, and the hairs on its lower lip mimic easily accessible anthers. It also displays false "nectar spurs" (not visible in this photo). A bee, visiting the flower for the first time, winds up going away disappointed, then landing on another  Calypso where it again receives no reward. The Calypso has the advantage of the bee's unwitting cross-pollination service, but not for long. The trick only works until the bees wise up to it, i.e., it's only effective with newly emerged, uneducated bees. Botanists refer to this tactic as "cross-pollination by deception," and Calypso has it down to a science, little liar that she is.

A Garden Of Calypsos

Day 209: Two weeks ago, the Calypso Orchids (Calypso bulbosa) were just beginning to bud, but warmer temperatures have brought them into full flower by the hundreds in Longmire Campground. Even as brightly coloured as they are, they're easy to miss, the flowering stems standing at most four inches high and often coming up through a thick layer of moss. The flowers may measure as much as an inch and a half from the "horns" on the lower lip to the tip of the tallest petal. Partially mycoheterotrophic (also referred to as "hemi-mycoheterotrophic"), each plant has a single leaf which allows for some photosynthesis; otherwise, the nutrients necessary for Calypso's survival are broken down by soil mycorrhizae into a form this dainty native orchid can utilize.

Calypso In White

Day 220: In between overseeing three volunteers on a campground project, I took time out for some botanical exploration and was rewarded with finding two snow-white specimens of Calypso bulbosa, Calypso Orchid. Calypsos' upper petals are normally magenta-pink, and the lower petal is marked with dark red lines in the heart and deep pink spots on the lip. In the white form, the interior lines are fainter and the spots are yellow. There is usually a slight hint of creamy pink in the upper petals. These two were by far the whitest I have ever seen. I had left my GPSr in the car (almost guaranteeing that I'd find something I wanted to record), so I found an easier way out, and assigned mental waypoints to several patches of lichen which could have been identical twins for every other patch of lichen in the area. On the return, I went unerringly to the Calypsos and took a reading. Now I know I can find them again when I come back with Team Biota. The white form is not a separate sub-species; it is a normal colour variation, although it is seen with much less frequency. Certain areas contain a higher percentage of white to pink, but whether that is due to genetics or habitat is something I don't know.

My Buddy Calypso

Day 205: For the second time this spring, I was sent on a mission by the Park's Plant Ecologist, specifically related to Calypso bulbosa, Calypso Orchids. The first project was mapping sites where they are known to occur, and I had to do it from memory because they had not yet emerged. This week's goal was to find any which might have popped up following a few days of warm weather. I found quite a few, but none was open farther than the specimen in this photo. It won't be long before tiny spots of magenta begin appearing in the carpet of moss, but for now, it takes a finely tuned eye to find these native beauties. Calypso is my "buddy," and gives me the cue to start searching for other rarer Orchidaceae.

Calypso In White

Day 192: Happy Earth Day! No day goes by that I do not marvel at the Earth's wonders. Admittedly, an inordinate amount of that marvelling is conducted flat on the forest floor, heedless of mud and dirt whether I'm in uniform or not. Consequently, I frequently return to my desk after lunch with fir needles in my hair, bits of moss clinging to my elbows, pantlegs wet to the knees, and exultant over my latest find. Yesterday's gem was a white Calypso Orchid, discovered in the storm-ravaged Longmire Campground. It had been spared by the heavy equipment brought in to remove toppled trees and massive root wads, though what its future might be is open to conjecture. These delicate orchids like shady spots, and with almost 70 trees gone, the campground is a much sunnier site.

It was determined that the storm which caused the damage was a microburst, a localized pocket of high wind lasting only a few minutes. If you will, think of it as a sneeze on Mother Nature's part, and without the benefit of a hankie. The force exerted by her "achoo" on standing trees would be comparable to an unshielded human sneeze upon a desktop littered with confetti, over and done before the effects had time to settle. A human sneeze is difficult to suppress, but Ma Nature doesn't try. Nor do we when we're not out in polite company.

While I am thankful that she turned her head and spared the majority of the Calypsos, I cannot fault Ma for clearing her sinuses. After all, downbursts are as natural as wildflowers, and tree-fall is part of the process of succession in a healthy forest.

Footnote: white Calypsos are not a separate sub-species of Calypso bulbosa. Although far less common than the familiar magenta form, they are simply a colour variation.

Pack Forest Calypso

Day 179: After digging a 3' x 6' x 2' hole in my yard into which I inserted two enormous pots destined to hold tomato plants, you'd have thought I'd be too tired to do much else. The previous night when I'd gone to bed, I'd been thinking about devoting the day to Mourning Cloak hunting along "Butterfly Alley" in Pack Forest, but upon arising, gardening seemed the better option. Two hours later, hole dug and pots planted, I remembered I hadn't put out the mail. En route to the mailbox, a Comma (Green or Satyr, I couldn't tell) flew through my field of vision, begging me to follow. I took the hint, returned to the house and packed up for a five-mile walk even while questioning the prudence of the plan.

Pack Forest was busier than I've ever seen it, and everyone seemed to be headed for the Falls Trail, trying to escape the too-warm temperatures. Not me. Butterfly Alley is on the north portion of the 1000 Road. The 1000 intersects with the 2000 at Kirkland Pass, and the southern 1000 returns to the parking area. The two roads can be combined as a figure-8 loop hike, or the 1000 can be done as a loop all by itself. I figured if I was going up Butterfly Alley, I'd just continue over the top and back out the other way. I had great confidence in finding photo-worthy butterflies, but as it turned out, I saw only a couple of Cabbage Whites and a few small, nondescript moths of the sort which enjoy Coltsfoot flowers.

A botanist friend had written to me the day before to say that she had found Calypso Orchids at the site of the old Sunshine Point Campground at Mount Rainier. I have been monitoring the Longmire site, and knew that leaves were only just beginning to show. However, Pack Forest has a few Calypsos; in fact, one patch is only about half a mile beyond Kirkland Pass on the 2000 Rd. With the camera empty of butterflies, I decided to go Calypso hunting instead. Success lies in being able to change your plan on a moment's notice.

Up Early

Day 192: They are up a month early, and the Calypso Orchids are appearing in dozens of unexpected places in the lower forest. Watch where you step if you go looking for these little beauties. From single ground-hugging leaf to tip of tallest petal, Calypso bulbosa stands but six inches in height, easy to miss despite their vivid color. I have pointed out a single flower or two to a group of people at my favourite grove of them with the response, "I see it!" Then I direct them to hunker down or get on their knees to take another look. The new perspective invariably brings the reaction, "Oh, gosh! There are HUNDREDS of them!" If perhaps not hundreds, people will be amazed that they could have been standing among several dozen without seeing even one. If you spot one Calypso, stop where you are and have a look from a lower angle before proceeding. Calypso's flower is crucial to its survival. If it is crushed or the stem is broken, the plant will die.

I'm going to throw that big word out to you again: mycoheterotrophy. Calypsos are among a very specialized group of plants called partial mycoheterotrophs. That means that in addition to photosynthesizing via the customary mechanism for plants (i.e., through a leaf). they also form a symbiotic relationship with a fungus (often one specific species) in order to extract nutrients from the soil, hence the adjective "partial." On the other hand, "obligate" mycoheterotrophs such as Indian Pipe (Monotropa uniflora) rely entirely on a fungal component to sustain them.

We experienced a very light winter here in the Pacific Northwest with a much lower than normal snowpack. Although this is purely conjecture, it makes me wonder if the abundance of Calypsos could be due in some degree to proliferation of their symbiotic fungal counterpart, a response to a warmer environment. Many plants are emerging earlier than usual, and how that will affect the wildflower season in the high country remains to be seen.

Pack Forest Surprise

Day 186: I had gone on a mission to Pack Forest about 10 AM and was coming back down from Windy Ridge, walking along the western portion of the 2000 Road with my eyes scanning the slope for a better example of Snow Queens than the ones I'd found near the trailhead. Suddenly, I saw something entirely unexpected: the bright magenta flags of two dozen or more Calypso Orchids on a steep embankment, so deep in shade that I had missed them altogether when I'd gone by an hour earlier. These are the first Calypsos I've seen outside Mount Rainier National Park. They have also emerged at Longmire and at Ohanapecosh, according to reports I've received, flowering there about a month earlier than normal.

It's Calypso Time!

Day 212: Arguably one of the most beautiful wildflowers of the lower forest, the delicate Calypso Orchid is also one of the most fragile. As a partial mycoheterotroph, this plant relies on a mycorrhizal (fungal) component to aid it in utilizing soil nutrients. Unlike full mycoheterotrophs, it is also capable of limited photosynthesis, but cannot complete its life cycle without both processes (mycoheterotrophy and photosynthesis). A broken stalk, a crushed leaf or a disturbance of the soil will destroy these diminuitive "fairyslippers."

Calypsos spring up in the early season (May-June) at Mount Rainier National Park. At an average height of five inches, they can be difficult to spot in their preferred habitat alongside mossy stream channels and wet areas. The single leaf emerges first, followed by the development of the stalk and blossom. Although the magenta-pink flower is typical of the species, white blooms are not uncommon. Keep your eyes open, because it's Calypso time!

Calypso Bulbosa

Day 226: As scheduled, today I finished installing the signs to protect three large colonies of Calypso Orchids in the Longmire Campground, and was delighted to see that dozens of new blossoms have opened since last week. Even more thrilling was finding another less accessible colony off to the side of one of the least-used campsites. I did not sign the latter group because they are more protected by the geography than the others. It was interesting to note that the area where the new colony had sprung up was one we cleared of deadfall last year. Apparently opening the ground up to light was sufficient to bring the bulbs out of a protracted dormancy. I am discovering that these fragile plants have astonishing recovery abilities. In yet another area, they are making a comeback a year's absence following heavy foot traffic. That said, my campaign for their protection will be an on-going project for many years to come!

The Calypso Project

Day 218: Those of you who regularly follow my posts will no doubt remember the Longmire Volunteer Campground's Calypso Orchids I worked so hard to protect last year. The only resources I had at that time were a roll of yellow caution tape and permission to cordon off the areas where these delicate plants were emerging. In addition to the physical protection, I spread the word among my co-workers, and found them very supportive of my efforts. Today, the issue of the Orchids again came up in conversation, and I went looking for a better way to protect them.

Bureaucracies being what they are, I contacted the sign shop to find out how to go about obtaining signage for the area. I expected to have to get approval for the project at the administrative level, but when I explained the situation, I was told that in this case, I could have signs without going through the departmental rigamarole, but that it might take some time to round up holders for them. I pleaded urgency, expecting the Orchids to emerge some time in the next two weeks. The sign shop said they'd see what they could do.

Satisfied, I turned back to my regular work, but in about fifteen minutes, there was a knock on the door. Eight signs on metal posts were delivered into my hands.

Just before we planned to leave for the day, Kevin and I took a walk around the campground loop. Just in case, I'd taken two signs with me. We found one Orchid in bloom in the primary spot, and scores more in the bud phase. Look closely just off the upper right corner of the sign to see this Orchid in its habitat. Hard to see, aren't they? Next week, I'll be installing the remainder of the signs. Gotta protect my babies!