Cladonia Bellidiflora, Toy Soldiers

Day 48: You can have your holly and your mistletoe. I'll take my Christmas colours in Cladonia bellidiflora. This showy fruticose lichen puts on a spectacular display of red apothecia, giving rise to its common and appropriately seasonal name of Toy Soldiers. A similar species (C. cristatella) is only found east of the Mississippi River and its common name of British Soldiers is frequently misapplied to C. bellidiflora. Closer examination of the podetia will reveal one easily observable difference: bellidiflora's "stems" are abundantly covered with pale green squamules (scales) whereas cristatella's podetia are finely granular.

Huernia Procumbens, A Rising Star

Day 47: The excitement is building! One of the two newest additions to my collection of odd houseplants is putting up its first blossom! Huernia procumbens is a cousin of H. zebrina which I am growing with great success despite zebrina's development of a small infestation of mealybugs. They were treated effectively with alcohol on a Q-tip and enviromentally-friendly insecticidal soap. It is interesting to note that although the blossom of this species strongly resembles that of zebrina in form (at least according to the pictures), its bud is distinctly different. In both species, the spines are soft. Stay tuned! We should have the "grand opening" within a few days!

Pseudohydnum Gelatinosum

Day 46: Although superficially rather nondescript, Pseudohydnum gelatinosum reveals a surprise when viewed from the bottomside. As the first part of its Latin name suggests, it resembles the family of Hydnums in that it exhibits "teeth" (inset) instead of pores or gills. The second half of its name is even more descriptive; its small size and granular, translucent surface looks and feels like a gumdrop. It is common (inedible) and unmistakable. No other jelly fungus has "teeth."

My readers may have noticed a rise in the number of fungus photos I've posted recently. There are two reasons for that. The first is that wildflower season is past. The second is that in an effort to broaden my knowledge of mycoheterotrophs, I am making visits to areas where certain species occur, documenting which fungi are associated with them, i.e., employing good old-fashioned field science and the power of observation. A simpler but much less affordable solution would be to take a section of the species in question and run it through DNA analysis or put it under an electron microscope, but that wouldn't be nearly as much fun!

Club-Fungi

Day 45: Many fungi have no widely accepted common names, so I figure I can call Clavulinopsis laeticolor "Butterfingers" if I please. These yellow/orange club-fungi can be found growing on mossy ground, usually in small clusters. It can be told from a similar species (Clavulinopsis helveola) by the squat triangular shape of its spores, but you'll need a good microscope to see them. At 1000x, I was unable to get a good image. There are many species of club-fungi in the Pacific Northwest, but most escape notice because of their size. While I was photographing these, I also spotted white Clavaria vermicularis (inset, upper right) which I would not have seen if I hadn't been down at ground level.

Dacrymyces Palmatus

Day 44: There are a number of Pacific Northwestern jelly fungi which fall under the unofficial nomenclature of "orange blobs," but Dacrymyces palmatus is likely the largest and showiest of the lot. When it is small, it could be mistaken for Tremella mesenterica. However, examination of the substrate will clear up any confusion. Dacrymyces grows on rotting conifer wood and Tremella appears on hardwoods. The outer skin of this species is leathery and tough, covering a mushy interior. When fresh and young, the lobes of this fungus are plump and translucent. As it dries out, the lobes collapse in on themselves, giving it a much more wrinkled appearance. While not actually poisonous, they have an unpleasant taste.

Pillow Provided

Day 43: There are only a few days left of Tippy's tenure in the Cone of Shame, so I feel compelled to explain that certain concessions to comfort have had to be provided at the expense of my trying to get anything else done. He has been such a good boy throughout the ordeal, first allowing doctor to perform surgery with only a local anaesthetic and then not protesting the Cone in the slightest. He's popped out of it twice accidentally, the first time when it caught the edge of the footstool as he leapt down to the floor and the second when he attempted to get onto the window sill behind the couch and fell between the couch and the wall. He did not resist or struggle when I reinstalled it. I suppose the least I can do is provide a soft pillow even if it means I'm not getting any needlework done. Sound asleep in this photo, he remained in this position for twenty minutes before shifting off my hand.

Step Moss, Hylocomium Splendens

Day 42: Hylocomium splendens ("Step Moss" or "Stairstep Moss") is one of the easiest Pacific Northwest bryophytes to identify. Its lacy foliage and unique growth habit are unlike those of any other moss in our area. It often forms dense mats on the floor of the lower forest, and only close examination will reveal its intricate beauty. Its name is derived from its pattern of growth. Each year, a new stem piggybacks on last year's, forming a long chain of "steps." Although usually only two or three tiers are readily visible, chains of 10 or more are not uncommon where this moss is abundant.

You Know The Drill

Day 41: You know the drill...or do you? Can you identify who's been pecking your trees by looking at the holes? Red-Breasted Sapsucker (frequently misidentified as a "red-headed woodpecker" by novice birders) typically drills horizontal lines of evenly spaced holes as shown in the image on the left. Contrary to common belief, Sphyrapicus ruber can't be blamed for killing trees. These birds are drawn to wood which has already been weakened by other stresses (disease, drought, detrimental bugs). Although the name suggests that these birds might feed exclusively on sap, it has been shown that they often drill holes without feeding, and return later to dine on the insects which are drawn to the exudate. Sapsucker likes his bugs sweetened!

Bird's-Nest Life Cycle

Day 40: Bird's-Nest fungi such as these specimens of Nidula niveotomentosa grow on rotting wood and propagate by means of spores contained in tiny lentil-like structures known as peridioles. Each "nest" is only about the size of a pencil eraser. The "eggs" of this species measure 0.5-1.0 mm and are protected by a gelatinous substance. When this fungus first emerges, the "nest" is covered by a dome which bursts as it matures, revealing the peridioles in the gel. They are then washed from their "nests" as the cups fill with rain. It is not uncommon to find lines of bird's-nests following cracks in old wood or colonies confined to low areas where the peridioles have come to rest. In this photo, you can see one unopened bird's-nest, one in which the peridioles are still suspended in the gel, two which are fully open, and several faded, grey ones from last year. Note also the peridioles on the rims of the cups and one (far right) resting on bare wood.

Birdwatching

Day 39: Birdwatching (particularly in my own back yard) is something I enjoy greatly. I maintain feeding stations with an eye to attracting as many species as possible, and have planted trees, shrubs and forage plants in my yard to make it as appealing as possible. Not a day goes by that I don't see Dark-eyed Juncoes (Oregon and Pink-sided, above) and Steller's Jays as well as the resident ravens and my namesake crows. The juncoes occur here year-'round, whereas other species including grosbeaks, sparrows, finches, wrens, towhees, swallows and siskins come only in season but do so consistently year after year. I am always delighted when an "occasional" shows up: Lazuli Bunting, Western Tanager, Scrub Jay, etc. I keep a Life List and although it isn't as impressive as it would be if I travelled, it thrills me to be able to tick off something I haven't seen before. Photographically, the Juncoes get short shrift. They're my "everyday" birds, their soft pips always coming from within the tangled branches of the contorted filbert, letting me know that the daily seed is expected, yes, but also appreciated.

Blackwork

Day 38: Blackwork embroidery is essentially nothing more than backstitch and/or running stitch and therefore is fairly simple to learn. What gives it its charm is creating filler-patterns using nothing more than those elementary stitches. The distance covered by the travelling thread (the thread on the back of the work) is the key to keeping the work flat and even. On Aida cloth, it should never be carried across more than two squares without catching it down under another stitch. Planning the line of travel for complicated patterns can be challenging. This piece is called "Lost in a Blackwork Maze" and was made following a commercially-prepared graph with a few variations of my own. I have made several versions of it over the years and finally finished one (11" x 11" on 16-count cloth) for myself!

Spectacled Onion

Day 37: I had decided several days ago that I would go to see the Sunday matinee of "Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them," and indeed that was my plan when I went to bed last night. I even left a note on my desk so I'd be sure not to forget. However, when I woke up this morning, I realized I hadn't let my supervisor know to pick me up on his way to work tomorrow so I could attend the Park's Tuesday turkey-feed. Then I remembered that I had to go to the post office to mail a package as well, but couldn't do so on a Sunday. Wait...is it Sunday or Monday today? It has to be Sunday because I'm going to the movie. Yesterday was Saturday. Today is Sunday. No, wait...

After several minutes of deliberation, I gave up and flipped open my cell phone. For several more minutes, I experienced a sensation not unlike having just come through a substantial, rolling earthquake, i.e., disorientation, nausea, dizziness. Saturday? SATURDAY? And then a brief moment of denial: "The phone is wrong" and illogically, "Must not have changed over from Daylight Time."

Nothing makes sense any more. Abstraction: A Spectacled Onion. The logic of the absurd.

Picotee

Day 36: Every year, I have the same debate with myself over which Zygo is my favourite, yellow or picotee. Picotee is flamboyant and appeals to my adventuresome spirit. Yellow has a subtle strength character hidden in its delicate tones. When it comes down to it, they're like two great kids in a family: as different as day and night, but each with unique and exceptional merits. Favourite? You can't choose...unless it's the one in bloom at the moment.

Never Laugh At A Cat

Day 35: Cats' people must understand one thing in feline psychology if they grasp nothing else: it is the height of rudeness to laugh at a cat, or even to allow the slightest inkling of a snicker to twitch the corners of your mouth. This is not to say that cats are humourless; quite the contrary! Many cats have a well-developed sense of humour, though perhaps on a level which eludes mere humans, manifesting most frequently as dry disdain. Ever have a cat give you "The Look?" That's cat humour. The indignity of the Cone of Shame is one thing and must be borne in good grace, but laughter? No. One must never laugh at a cat, no matter how strongly they resemble a vacuum device of some sort, designed for sucking up cat food on an industrial scale.

Abandoning Pretense

Day 34: I can't do it. I cannot continue pretending to myself and to my readership that it's a lovely day for a walk on the trail, or that the metaphorical weather will change for the better if we just wait out the cloudburst. The truth of the matter is that my country just dealt itself a mortal wound, and I am reeling as I try to make sense of "human rights and equality" as something which can be discarded at the whim of an individual's power. Nor can I wrap my head around policies which deny science and turn a blind eye to matters of global importance, fueled by greed. I cannot go on without speaking out against racism and misogyny and the thousand other evils which dominate the palette of the current political sphere. Each morning, I rise in the hopes that something has changed, but the changes I see are for the worst. I fear my neighbours. I am afraid to voice my feelings to all but the closest of friends. At my age, I despair of ever again being proud to acknowledge myself as an American. I have nothing to offer any other country, no skill which would make me desirable as a refugee/immigrant to another nation.

Are there no wiser leaders, familiar with the machinery of politics, who know of legal means and measures by which this descent into despotism can be stemmed? Where are the champions of good and decency? When will they stand up and save us from a detestable administration which would make America hate again?

The Cone Of Shame

Day 33: We are home. I haven't spoken of this publicly, but when Tip went in for his annual exam last week, I asked his doctor to look at a lump beneath his ear. It had been there for a while, but he'd started fussing at it. She determined that it was more than just a "kitty bump" (cyst) via a punch biopsy which was then sent out for analysis. The return stated that it was a mast-cell tumor. This type of tumor in cats is described as "unpredictable, but usually benign," and due to the unpredictability factor, she recommended removal. However, Tip has a pronounced heart murmur which precludes using general anaesthesia. She thought she'd be able to do it under a local, but nevertheless I was worried. I took him in early this morning. Fifteen minutes later, doctor came out of the operating theater and announced that he had come through just fine. I waited another half hour to get the results of his blood tests - everything normal. Now we wait for the pathology, and meanwhile, good little Tippy who didn't bite or claw anybody has been consigned to the Cone of Shame for two weeks while the incision heals. I expected him to protest, but he seems to be accepting his circumstances with amazingly good grace.

Historic Trash Bin

Day 32: I have one of our campground hosts to thank for pointing this bit of Park history out to me. The plaque is welded onto the side of one of the trash bins in Longmire Campground and reads, "Columbia Basin Job Corps Civilian Conservation Center United States Dept of the Interior Bureau of Reclamation." I'm not sure how the Bureau of Reclamation enters into the equation, but the CCC enlisted thousands of men to work on projects across the country during the Depression. Many of the stone walls along roadsides and trails in the Park were built by the CCC, as were a number of structures including backcountry ranger cabins. However, this is the most unusual evidence I've documented of the labor force's contribution to our great National Park.

Daisy, Daisy

Day 31: Yesterday, a not-too-obscure piece of fiberarts equipment came under discussion when the person who owned it posted a photo with the suggestion that it might be a potato peeler. I laughed, because it was not the first time someone had showed me a rug-maker's punch needle believing it to be a kitchen tool. The shape is very similar. Most people are familiar with a latch-hook, but fewer would recognize the punch. I've made many rugs with one, although I prefer the much faster method of weaving them.

So...obscure bits of fiberarts equipment on the board, how many of you would have known what a daisy winder was? Daisy-making was popular in my grandmother's day, and indeed it was at her knee that I learned to make them on these same two winders over sixty years ago. The principle is simple: turn the knurled knob to extend the spokes, wind yarn over them proceeding around the clock, stitch the center in an under 4/back 3 fashion until one or two circuits are complete. Tuck the tails, turn the knurled knob the opposite way and...off pops your first daisy! Repeat this procedure until you have enough daisies for your project.

The last part is the hardest. Daisies get very boring after a while, and if you had planned to make an afghan, you may find yourself wishing you'd signed on to count the stars in the sky or the grains of sand on the seashore. A scarf or a bed-jacket is a much more reasonable goal. Trust me, I know. In fact, my daisy afghan was so much work that I keep it tucked away in the cedar chest, not wanting to put it out for daily use. That said, every now and then, I break out the winders and make a scarf for a gift, rows of daisies separated by rows of hairpin lace. Oh! Hairpin lace! That's another fiberart which has almost gone by the wayside. Arts of bygone days, they are...most taught to me before I was school-age by a grandmother who was an exceptional needleworker.

Natural Cycle

Day 30: Every year, I hear people talking about how their November-blooming "Christmas" cacti (Zygocactus) seem to have lost track of what season it is, or that they're getting an early start on the holidays. Nope! The ones you see in nurseries and plant shops have been forced to flower out of their natural cycle by being subjected to a schedule of cool temperatures and limited light. It sometimes takes a couple of years for them to resume their normal activity, but once they're back on track, you can expect a full flush of blooms in November and then a few stragglers again in January. To be sure that they flower the following year, keep them on the cool side (55-60 degrees) through winter.

Pilophorus Acicularis, Devil's Matchstick

Day 29: Pilophorus acicularis is one of my favourite lichens. It is a "pioneer," one of the first to colonize freshly exposed surfaces of non-calcareous rock. During Bio-Blitz last May, I set my group the task of searching for it as we hiked the Rampart Ridge trail. It's not easy to see, but once everyone got their eyes tuned to its dusty pale green colour, they began spotting it and soon had tallied quantities far beyond anything I'd expected. They also found multiple examples of Pilophorus clavatus, a related (but not as photogenic) species, often growing as a neighbour with acicularis on different faces of the rocks. A third species of Pilophorus reportedly occurs in Washington's Olympic Mountains. I have yet to observe it.

Specimens of the two Mount Rainier species seldom exceed an inch in length, and at the end of summer are often quite dry and wiry. However, the granular nature of the cortex latches onto even the slightest amount of moisture (dew, fog, rain), and after a few damp days, the "bristles" become soft and pliable again. A rock fully vested in Pilophorus strongly suggests a sylvan Chia Pet!

Troglodyte

Day 28: The site of yesterday's exciting lichen find was in Gifford Pinchot National Forest near Layser Cave, although lichen-hunting wasn't what drew me there. I needed to be Out, so after considering the options, I decided to go geocaching, and the closest caches worth the bother were three south of Randle, about 50 miles from home. I saved Layser Cave for last, hoping that the trail would be unpopulated so I could take photos undisturbed. While I succeeded in setting up without interference, voices coming from the vista point below let me know that I was not alone.

The Forest Service calls Layser Cave an "interpretive site." Okay, it has historical significance as a Native American hunting shelter, but I think the explanation of "Family Life at Layser Cave" romanticizes how this shelter was actually used, suggesting that the women and children tagged along with the men who were purportedly hunting elk and other game and set up housekeeping below the overhang. Any evidence which might have supported that hypothesis was removed by looters long ago (on that point, the text may be accurate), but I hardly believe it likely. Subsequent visitors to the cave have left the debris of small campfires and other material inside, and the entrance has been refurbished with a layer of thick weed-barrier cloth over which sand has been poured. That said, I saw no graffiti in the interior of the hollow which extends back only about twenty feet. It could easily have accommodated a hunting party of a dozen men or more. It faces roughly south-southwest, admitting sunlight to all but the most deeply recessed corners. I'm not sure I'd want to book a week-long stay at this "hotel," especially not in November, but as potential digs for a troglodyte go, Layser Cave is a nice little niche.

Peltigera Rufescens, Field Dog Lichen

Day 27: Of any Peltigera I might have thought I'd find at Layser Cave, Peltigera rufescens wouldn't have made the list. This beautiful silver-grey pruinose pelt is normally considered a "dry-side" species, but its dense rhizines ("forming a contiguous mass") separate it from any other of its kin. After I got past the "Oooooh, what's that?" stage of discovery, the next words out of my mouth were, "Man, have you got rhizines! You's a woolly bugger! And aren't you gorgeous!" Then, with a look over my shoulder as I remembered that there had been a couple of other hikers on the trail below me, I settled into the serious business of documenting my find. Of course I didn't know it was rufescens at that point, and since I was in National Forest territory (Forest, as opposed to Park), I had only slight reservations about nipping a 1" x 1" specimen for analysis at home in case there were specifics I'd only be able to see under the microscope. I needn't have worried. The rhizines were definitive, and bingo! a new lichen for my Life List.

Lichens And 'Shrooms

Day 26: "Perspective," I remind myself. "It's all about keeping things in the proper perspective." When I start to lose my perspective, I go for a nature walk. The lichens and 'shrooms bring me down to earth, both figuratively and literally. Barring a lahar, they'll be there tomorrow and the day after, and the week after that, and if they don't come back next year, something else will take their place: equally beautiful, equally vital in its own niche. I am humbled by their perseverance and resilience as, on a whole, they adapt to changes in their circumstance, and I try to carry away with me the lesson which they silently put forth. Do I succeed? Not always, because I am human, but the lesson remains where I can refer to it time and again until it gives me some modicum of ease. Perspective. I need a walk.

Paired Pelts

Day 25: Lichens can be very selective as to their preferred habitat, but at this particular location, the dominant genus is Peltigera. But which species? That's been puzzling me for some time as I viewed them in a less-than-optimal state of dryness. I had thought the grey, crisp mass might hold both young and old specimens of a single species since there were subtle differences, but I was surprised when, after a good soak in our abundant October rains, two Pelts made themselves apparent. Peltigera britannica (left) is characterized by its bright green colour and dark cephalodia which are easily scraped off the surface of its lobes (a feature which distinguishes it from P. apthosa), and Peltigera membranacea (right) by its thin tissue and rope-like rhizines. These two colonies seem to be campaigning for dominance of the rock face on which they are growing. It's much more to my liking to ponder which will become the next President of Lichenopolis.

Make No Suppositions

Day 24: There are two phrases you'll hear repeated among mushroomers. The first is that "there are old mushroom hunters and bold mushroom hunters, but there are no old, bold mushroom hunters." The second makes the point even more clearly as "all mushrooms are edible, but some are only edible once." I say, "Don't eat anything you can't identify with 105% assurance," and that's why I pass this one by. I know what it is...or at least I know its genus if not the species. At least I think I do. It bleeds a sticky orange sap when broken and otherwise fits the basic profile for Lactarius deliciosus with its carrot-coloured cap marked with green, but I'm just not "105% sure."

I'm reminded of Uncle Eddie, my fishing buddy's brother-in-law with whom we often went 'shrooming. Eddie would collect Rozites, great basketsful of them for canning and drying. I looked them up in half a dozen field guides, but couldn't quite convince myself that Eddie knew what he was talking about. However, if Eddie's eventual demise at a reasonable age was in any part due to liver damage from eating the wrong sorts of mushrooms, it was not apparent to me. Field guides don't always show regional morphological differences, so maybe he was right about Rozites.

My mother used to collect this Lactarius and presumably identified it correctly. Not so with some of the other 'shrooms she gathered! After I discovered that she'd been eating Russulas after having misidentified them as Blewits, I was careful not to eat any mushroom at her house except the Oysters which she dried behind her woodstove. In hindsight, I might have been more cautious. Now I am not "105% sure" she had those right either.

I like mushrooms. I like eating them, but even moreso, I enjoy seeing them in the forests. I do not have the palate to appreciate the distinctions of flavour in different species, so I am more than willing to pass by those which raise even the slightest doubt in my mind as to their identity. I choose to abide by another wise saying, gleaned from the culinary world: "The first bite is with the eye." For me with respect to all but a few species, that first bite is all I need.

Elfin Saddle, Youth And Age

Day 23: Helvella lacunosa is a member of the group of fungi commonly called Elfin Saddles. Sometimes they are lumped into the larger category of "false morels" which also includes the genera Verpa and Gyromitra. While true Morels fruit only in the spring, the false morels occur most frequently in autumn. Although some false morels are considered edible, a larger number are poisonous, and some are deadly. This particular Elfin Saddle is notable for the ridges and holes in the stipe (stalk). The center specimen is beginning to decay, overgrown with a secondary fungus which consumes the host.

During my patrol of Longmire Campground for this species, the various locations in which it was found insinuated themselves into my subconscious mind until they erupted as an observation: behind trees and in close proximity to the base; at the edges of campsites; within the confines of a small two-sided enclosure near a bathroom. While it still bears further study, I am inclined to believe that Helvella lacunosa has a preference for urine-tainted soils. Just sayin'.

Ramaria's Return

Day 22: My first encounter with Ramaria araiospora stopped me in my tracks with an exclamation of "What the *$&# is THAT?" And small wonder...this unusual species was first described scientifically in 1974 from a specimen taken locally. It is endemic to the Pacific Northwest, although similar fungi have been reported elsewhere in North America. Five years have passed since I saw it last in this particular location, and it thrilled me to see it making a return appearance.

Every year, I make patrols of the areas where I've observed it (all in the same creek drainage, although at different altitudes). I might have missed this example, hidden as it was beneath ferns, but for the fact that I was travelling off-trail in pursuit of an entirely different mushroom (chanterelles). I just happened to catch a glimmer of red among the fronds. Rare, beautiful, but regrettably edible, this coral is collected for the table (not by me!) with little regard for its status.

Specimen Press

Day 21: Although I do most of my "collecting" with the camera, there are occasions when I'm called upon to take a specimen for preservation in the Park's herbarium. Up until last spring, I had relied on the Encyclopedia Britannica to do service as a plant press, stacked volumes weighting the subject matter between several sheets of blotting paper. However, much to my delight, our 2015 Centennial Ambassador passed his press along to me with the comment, "I think this will do you more good than it does me." Indeed, it's stood me in good stead so far, and is much easier to accommodate while the specimens are drying. no longer will I have guests ask, "Why are your encyclopedias stacked on the table?"

The Flat Run

Day 20: The creek shall remain nameless in this essay because there's a 14" trout waiting for me behind that big rock, I'm positive. And I know what it will take to get it out.

My fishing buddy and I spent a lot of time on this creek, but even before I met him, I'd discovered the boons the Flat Run had to offer. Oh, it's flowing pretty good now because it's autumn and we've had a lot of rain, but in summer, it's slick and smooth. You can't see fish, but flip a beadhead water-boatman just to the left of that rock and let it drift. That ol' trout will take it in a heartbeat because he thinks he's safe down there. Nobody goes down the steep embankment to the Flat Run. Except me...and Sande, in his day.

When we first met, Sande was spry and sure-footed, but as the years went by, he no longer felt safe wading over the slippery rocks in the creek. I'd station him at the Flat Run and then go half a mile upstream. "I'll scare 'em down to you," I'd tell him...and sure enough, by the time I'd worked my way down to my partner, he'd have his dinner on the stringer. The Flat Run seldom let us down. But age is more than an inconvenience, and eventually, he was forced to find easier places to fish and I...well, I didn't feel right going without him.

Sande is gone now. He passed away this last spring. Looking down at the Flat Run, my thoughts were back with him on those sunny, summery days. There's a lunker down there with his name on it, and by golly, I'm going to catch it for him next year, just for old times' sake.

Slow Road To Riches

Day 19: "For each man who got rich by mining, Hundreds of others grew poor..." Well, I haven't decided to "try farming, the only pursuit that is sure" like the poor sap in the song "Acres of Clams," but I certainly haven't found any colour yet. In all fairness, I haven't really been trying too hard, but I figured gold-panning was a good skill to add to my repertoire. I did find a nice deposit of black sand which kept me amused for a while. It turned out to be magnetite and a small bottle of it went into my mineral collection, so the project wasn't a total bust. That said, a former neighbour turned up a few flakes in a local creek, a fact which keeps me hopeful. If you're wondering how the turkey baster figures into the search, remember that gold is heavy. It tends to settle into cracks and crevices as lighter material continues to be swept downstream. When fitted with a length of plastic tubing, the baster can be used to suck these deposits out after they've been loosened by a tool such as an old screwdriver. The small squeeze bottle is used for extracting bits of "colour" from the pan...if you're lucky enough to find any!