Candy Canes in June

Today was the annual geocaching CITO in which we set up the platform tents in the volunteer campground at Longmire. I always watch for the mycoheterotrophic species here, and was rewarded with a lovely cluster of Allotropa virgata, aka "Stick Candy," which looks like peppermint sticks. I don't think the handful of people I collared en route back to the picnic pavilion were expecting a botany lesson, but y'know, I just couldn't help myself. This plant is among my favourites, not only because it's pretty and unusual, but because it survives in spite of incredible odds. First of all, it requires the assistance of a specific fungus for breaking down soil components into something it needs, that fungus has its own set of requirements. Some mycoheterotrophs are more "sociable" than others, which is to say they rely on a wider range of fungi, but in my experience, the rarity of a plant seems to correspond to the number of fungal partners it is willing to accept. Ah, to be fifty years younger, and to have it to do all over again! Mycoheterotrophy fascinates me like nothing else.

Pilophorus Acicularis

Day 263: Anyone who comes to visit me should know to expect at least a few botany lessons, so when Rob, Mike and I went up to Longmire, I just had to introduce them to Pilophorus acicularis, aka "Devil's Matchstick Lichen." It's one of my favourites. A "pioneer" lichen, it is one of the first to colonize the surfaces of freshly broken rock, although the definition of "freshly broken" can extend twenty years or so into the past. This particular specimen is on the road cut just south of the wooden bridge between Longmire proper and the volunteer campground. The bridge is currently in need of repair, and Rob and Mike checked it over thoroughly, studying the architecture and welds while I worked my way along the ditch trying to remember exactly which bump of rock held my pet Pilophorus. When I finally found it, I called Rob over to show it to him. Pffft! I don't think he was sufficiently impressed! But then, National Parks hold different attractions for people with a wide variety of interests, don't they?

Off the Beaten Path

Day 259: Before they arrived, I had warned my New Zealand guests that there wasn't a lot to do here in the Back of Beyond unless you were an avid hiker or a mountaineer. The skies have been cloudy, and they've only seen the tips of Mount Rainier's three summit peaks poking up above them. In the hopes that we might get above the clouds for a Mountain view, I decided to take them up to Paradise yesterday even though the webcams showed the area blanketed in fog. There was little chance they would actually get a view, but I thought I could offer a little excitement en route with a brief visit to a little-known area. Obviously, Rob enjoyed the diversion! In exchange, he was able to provide a trip highlight to me: he found a slime mold (it will appear in a subsequent post). We paid Kevin a visit at the office, and as predicted, Paradise was a rainy, nippy washout. With two days left before they start the trip home, there's still hope that my visitors may both see the Mountain and the night skies of the northern hemisphere. It's supposed to clear up.

CITO The Mountain

Day 231: I rarely geocache these days, but there is one annual event I don't think I've missed in sixteen years: CITO the Mountain. "CITO" stands for "cache in, trash out." Trash pickup is always minimal in Longmire Campground, with the real purpose of the event being the set-up of canvas tents which are available for use by summer volunteers. I serve as one of the supervisors for the work teams, and since so many of the participants are returnees, I generally just leave the crews to do what they know to do. There are always a few hitches which require intervention, but for the most part, experienced hands do the job quickly and efficiently while teaching newcomers the process. Today was no exception. We had one of the best turnouts ever, and the weather was perfect right up to the last moment when it began turning colder and a few sprinkles fell. This may well have been my last such event as a Volunteer Coordinator. Kevin and I both plan to retire from the Volunteer Program at the end of September.

Hypericum Anagalloides, Tinker's-penny

Day 244: The genus Hypericum contains almost 500 species, all of which..."ALL," I said...can be referred to by the common name "St. John's wort," and if that doesn't convince you of the value of specific taxonomic epithets, nothing will. Hypericum anagalloides is one of the smallest, and is native to western North America where it is commonly called "Tinker's-penny" or "Creeping St. John's wort" (a term which may also apply to another Hypericum species). It can be found in bogs and mountain meadows as a dense mat no more than two inches high, its bright yellow flowers hidden among chartreuse-green foliage. Ironically, the second half of its Latin binomial has its roots in Greek: "ana" meaning "again" and "-agallein," "to delight in," referring to the fact that the flowers close at night and re-open the following day.

Rhododendron Groenlandicum, Labrador-tea

Day 240: When people hear the name "Rhododendron," most likely an image of the shrubby ornamental varieties commonly used in landscaping will come to mind. However, there are over 1000 species of Rhododendron worldwide, and some may grow to heights of 100 feet or more. Washington's State Flower is the native pink Rhododendron (R. macrophyllum), similar in size and flower structure to the garden cultivars. It does not occur in Mount Rainier National Park, but at least three other native Rhododendrons grace our slopes: R. albiflorum, R. menziesii and R. groenlandicum. The latter (above) is also known as Labrador-tea or Bog Labrador-tea, and can be found in bogs and swamps at low to mid-elevations in western Washington. Its star-shaped white flowers are carried in terminal racemes, and it is not uncommon to find last year's spent seed capsules dangling beneath them. As the name suggests, it was widely used by Native peoples and early settlers in the northern regions as a tea, but the leaves contain alkaloids which may be toxic if ingested.

Paxistima Myrsinites, Oregon Boxwood

Day 237: The tiny pink flowers of Oregon Boxwood are difficult to spot unless you're specifically looking for them, measuring no more than 3-4 mm from tip to tip. The species is native to the Pacific Northwest and occurs from British Columbia to northern Mexico and east to Montana, its glossy, toothed foliage distinguishing it from any look-alike. The second half of its binomial Paxistima myrsinites points to the dark green leaf as resembling that of myrtle, although the growth habit of the shrub is more open than that of Myrtus. It is evergreen, and is often sold as a landscaping plant (hardy to Zone 3), and is especially desirable when creating native gardens. It seldom exceeds 36 inches in height and may be pruned to keep it more compact. It is also known by the endearing common name, "Mountain-lover."

Campground CITO

Day 235: Among geocachers, the term CITO stands for "cache in, trash out." The original concept of this particular type of "event cache" drew cachers together to clean up litter in an area, and then leave behind a physical container with a log book and appropriate swag for other cachers to enjoy. However, the definition of "CITO" became more flexible with time. Mount Rainier National Park prohibits the placement of physical containers, so the event is a one-time opportunity for members of the geocaching community to rack up another smilie in exchange for a few hours' work cleaning up the campground and erecting platform tents for use by summer volunteers. After a hiatus of two years due to covid restrictions, the annual Mount Rainier CITO made its return yesterday. While there wasn't much cleanup to be done in the tent sites, several platforms had to be moved to new locations. Many hands made light work of the process while three of the four supervisors (Kevin, Moe and I) kibitzed from the sidelines. Tom, our campground host, was in the thick of things, making sure that the platforms were properly seated. Years of trial and error have resulted in a smooth system for erecting the tents. The job was done and dusted in just three hours.

Dislodged Kidneys

Day 142: When the Park reopened after the storm damage was repaired and I could get back into Longmire, one of the things on my agenda was to check the campground for dislodged Kidneys. I have found Nephroma helveticum there in two locations. In both cases, it had dropped from the canopy far above my head and was attached to either a branch or twig from some tree I couldn't pinpoint. My most recent find (above) was about 100' from one of the customary drop-zones, but given the size of the twig (no more than four inches long) and its lightness, I concluded that it had probably been blown there on a gust of wind. Five species of Nephroma are known to occur in the Park. As shown here in a Penny Perspective, Fringed Kidneys (Nephroma helveticum) are easy to identify by the creamy white "ruffle" which borders the brown disks like a crocheted edging. The lower surface is smooth.

Pileated Woodpecker, Dryocopus Pileatus

Day 139: Yesterday, the Park's hazard-tree removal chief was on the job, showering the ground with bits of bark and wood as he jack-hammered away. I'd spotted him on my way over to the volunteer campground, but a glint of sun off the lens of my camera sent him flying before I could focus but, diligent worker that he is, he returned and resumed his task almost immediately, although on a different tree. Here, he could be seen to get to the heart of the matter as he pecked away, head and shoulders well inside the cavity he'd created. So consumed by his employment that my presence was largely dismissed as trivial, he allowed me to creep closer, a few feet at a time, until I had him in range.

"He," I say, and yes, I can give you proof of that. Note the red "moustache" sweeping back from his beak. That is the telling point. In the female, it is black. Dryocopus pileatus is the Pacific Northwest's largest woodpecker with a wingspan of 29" and a length of 16.5". In flight, the underwing shows white coverts, and the length of the tail is obvious. Woodpeckers of all sorts use the tail for leverage and balance, bracing it against a tree trunk or other surface to power their drilling. They forage for insects (particularly carpenter ants) on dead trees or sometimes on fallen logs.

Monochrome In Colour

Day 87: It was good to be back in the office today, although after an absence of a little over a month, I wasn't sure I was going to make it through all the emails and applications which had backed up. That said, I was hoping for a few minutes to take a walk in the snow, but it wasn't in the cards. On the up side, Arnie called to discuss the Tomie folios, and with Kevin's help, I may now have some hope of "translating" the cross-written pages. Snow fell almost continuously throughout the day, sometimes drifting down as a fine shower of flakes, other times becoming so dense that I could hardly see the road from our window, Mother Goose shaking out her featherbed with a vengeance. The monochrome landscape was broken only by the occasional bright orange plow. Even the visitors (what few there were) were clad in muted colours. As Kevin and I drove out, snow diminished at the entrance but picked up again by the time we reached Ashford. My yard is as white as Longmire. Winter has come at last.

Platismatia Duo

Day 55: If I'd been conducting a lichen walk, I couldn't have asked for a better demonstration of two species of Rag Lichen. A piece of Ribbon Rag (Platismatia stenophylla) had dropped on the trail right beside a similarly-sized hunk of Ragbag (P. glauca), forming a textbook comparison without the slightest rearrangment by me. At first glance, P. stenophylla could be taken for P. herrei (Tattered Rag) which also occurs in the Park, but herrei exhibits soredia and isidia (reproductive structures) on its lobes. As a general rule, Platismatias tend to have a soft, limp feel when handled, hence the word "rag" in so many of their common names. In particular, Platismatia glauca takes on a pink tinge as it ages, making it look even more like a soppy old dishrag.

Justice At Mount Rainier National Park

Day 18: Longmire, WA. A well-known Justice put in an appearance at the Ranger Division's annual "potato feed" today at Mount Rainier National Park's historic Longmire Community Building. The exact nature of her visit was not revealed, although she was seen to keep close company with Park icon P. B. van Trump. Rumour has it that the two spent the early hours of the day behind closed doors and deep in the records of past and present volunteers. Following the gathering, the Justice and Mr. van Trump returned to the offices of the Administration Building and remained closeted for several hours.

Trichia Decipiens

Day 358: In the last week, I have found three species of slime mold, a bit of a surprise given cooler, wetter weather. Slime molds are more commonly out and about when conditions are dry and warm. That said, this one (Trichia decipiens) was a new one for me. As you can tell from the wood grain, they're tiny little buggers, but I'd tuned my eye for red/orange, having been out on a hunt for Ramaria araiospora and as a sidebar, a potential chanterelle dinner. I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw them, giving vent to the phrase which will go down in history as my contribution to science: "What the hell is that?" In the next heartbeat, I said, "Ooooooh, new slime mold!" Seriously, I'd be the easiest person to find if I ever got lost in the forest. Searchers could locate me by ear if they listened for my running natural-history soliloquy. Trichia decipiens has a fondness for decaying conifer wood, thus the Pacific Northwest makes an ideal home for the species. Slime molds being what they are, I can't help but wonder if their plans for world domination are being coordinated from Mount Rainier National Park.

Blackcaps!

Day 316: Mmmmmmm, blackcaps! Even half-ripe Rubus leucodermis will stop me in my tracks for a quick nibble. Nature's provender includes a number of very tasty things in abundant quantities (blue huckleberries, for example), but in all my travels, I have never discovered a patch of Blackcap Raspberries large enough to satisfy my craving for them, and certainly never sufficient to collect for jam. The blue-stemmed vines are easy to recognize, one here, one there, each with a handful of fruit. Gathering them reminds me somewhat of eating sunflower seeds, i.e., a lot of work for very little in the way of caloric value. Still, they are such a special treat that I carry a mental map of where they occur within easy walking distance of the office. Oddly, only a very few of my Park colleagues bother with them. They don't know what they're missing!

Pterospora Andromedea, Pinedrops

Day 302: Three days ago, I gave a lecture on lichens and mycoheterotrophy to a group of Park volunteers. I did not include Pinedrops in the discussion because I didn't have a suitable photo of it. We also missed it during the field trip because we took a different route; ironically, this specimen was right behind the building in which I gave my talk.

The study of mycoheterotrophic plants is still fairly new; consequently, we don't have a complete map of which fungi are associated with which plants. What we do know is that the less common the fungus is, the less common the associated plant will be. This extends backwards even further because certain fungi are only associated with specific hosts, so if the host isn't present, the fungus won't be present, and therefore the plant will not be present either. In the case of Pinedrops (Pterospora andromedea), we know that its associated fungi belong to the genus Rhizopogon, including R. arctostaphylli which utilizes Arctostaphyllos uva-ursi (common names, Bear-berry or Kinnickinnick) as its host (as a sidebar here, this is a good example of taxonomy which is actually informative, which I greatly prefer to those names which acknowledge a person, i.e., if this fungus had been called R. smithii, I'd have had to do a lot more digging to find out what its associates were). Over the last decade or so, I have observed Pinedrops less frequently than in the past, certainly far less often than I did during my early backpacking years. This would seem to indicate one of two possibile contributing factors: a decrease in the fungus species and/or a decrease in the host plant for the fungus. I have not noticed a particular decline in the Arctostaphyllos population, so theory suggests that the fungal partner's needs are not being met due to some other condition; perhaps our drier summers over the last ten years have led to its diminished presence.

I've said it before, and I hope by saying it again that I wish I had another fifty years in which to attempt to find answers. The best I can hope for is to inspire someone else to pick up the research and move it forward. Fungus seems to be at the root (literally in some cases) of much of the world's diversity. We need to further our understanding of the mycorrhizal connection to life.

Western Tanager, Piranga Ludoviciana

Day 271: Flighty Western Tanager (Piranga ludoviciana) isn't the easiest bird to photograph. One occasionally comes to my yard, but invariably hides in the tangled leaves of the contorted filbert. However, when Team Biota spotted one in Longmire, we went into full "Big Year" mode and pulled as far off the road as the narrow approach to the bridge would allow, and all four of us jumped out with cameras at the ready. While none of these is an ideal field-guide shot, they are still the best Tanager photos I've achieved, definitely sufficient for a positive ID. A female was more elusive, flitting from tree to tree but always landing in the protective cover of foliage. Formerly placed with other Tanagers, Western Tanager has been reclassified into the family of Cardinals. Western Tanager's diet consists primarily of insects, although they also consume various fruits. Locally, their diet includes elderberries, serviceberry and cherries (wild or cultivated). They are also an important control for tussock moth here in the Pacific Northwest.

Lycogala Epidendrum, Wolf's-Milk Slime Mold

Day 234: We put up the platform tents in Longmire Campground last Saturday, and Kevin wanted to make a time-exposure video of the process. He started to set his cell phone down on a stump, but discovered it was occupied. As I walked down the road, he said, "Come with me. I have something to show you." He pointed at a group of salmon-orange bumps and asked, "Are they a lichen or a fungus?" I replied with a laugh, "Neither! That's a slime mold." In fact, it was Lycogala epidendrum, also known (for some bizarre reason) as "Wolf's-milk" which, as slime molds go, is one of the most common species worldwide. I know of two locations where it occurs in Longmire now, this being the second one.

As a species, Lycogala was first classified by Linnaeus, the father of taxonomy. He called it "Lycoperdon" because he thought it was a puffball mushroom. We now know that it isn't a fungus at all, but a unique lifeform which some felt necessitated recognition of a separate biological kingdom, the Protists/Protoctista. At the time of this writing, this classification is considered obsolete, and further parsing of kingdoms is the subject of on-going research. Slime molds might well be the puzzle of the century!

Wrong Waterfall

Day 211: On a typical work day, I have half an hour ot so to take a little hike. If my other work is done, I can extend that by searching out material for my weekly Park Facebook posts. To that end, I decided I'd take a long-abandoned trail up the south side of the Nisqually River in the hopes of finding an odd lichen, a new grove of Calypso orchids or some other noteworthy plant. I'd projected my turn-around point to be at the waterfall visible from the Longmire bridge. I didn't make it. Another waterfall got in my way. The streams in the Park are running at spring levels, swollen with snowmelt and therefore dangerous to attempt crossing. As they say, "discretion is the better part of valor," so I cut my exploration short and put it back on the list for another day.

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.