Male Mariposa Copper, Lycaena Mariposa

Day 327: A fairly unremarkable butterfly as far as wing patterns go, there were enough of them flitting around the Cascade Asters on the Naches Loop that I felt I could safely conclude that I wasn't just seeing faded individuals. As to the butterflies' true identity, I didn't have a clue. My "best guesses" turn out wrong 50% of the time when I submit them to BugGuide.net, so I've even stopped speculating and simply label them as "unknown" until one of the experts responds, and "book education" seems to be doing no good with respect to improving my skills. I was bemoaning that fact as I moved along the trail, stopping now and then to take another photo, when a butterfly net appeared in my field of view. It was followed by a second, borne in the hands of two Cascade Butterfly Survey volunteers who quickly provided the names and sexes of the species I'd photographed during my hike, including this male Mariposa Copper (Lycaena mariposa). Now there's a thought: sign up for the training next year!

Parnassia Fimbriata, Grass-of-Parnassus

Day 324: Grass-of-Parnassus is an excellent example of how confusing common names can be. First of all, it is not a grass. Purportedly named for its abundant occurrence on Mount Parnassus (Greece), the species actually growing there is a botanical cousin. Also called "Marsh Marigold," it is not related to the Marsh Marigold (Caltha leptosepala) known and loved in PNW alpine wetlands. Yes, it prefers a similar habitat, and thus comes a third common name, "Bog-stars." This is why I prefer Latin. There can be no doubt when Parnassia fimbriata is specified. Whatever you call it, its fringed one-inch flowers are highly photogenic. Look for it along the margins of perennial seeps and springs in the subalpine zone.

Naches Loop Bear

Day 319: It's not just me. All across the Park, we're seeing more bears this year, although Paradise seems to be recording them in near-record numbers. This marks my third encounter for the summer, and definitely a more healthy specimen than the scrawny wretch I saw two weeks ago on the Lakes Trail. A party of half a dozen hikers had stopped at a respectable distance and alerted me to the bear's presence with loud voices (but not shouting). "There's a bear on your left! About fifty feet down!" At that moment, my view was blocked by trees, so I continued down the trail until I could spot the animal. Yep, there was a bear, contentedly munching what few blueberries it could find, doing bearish things and posing no particular threat to the humans in its territory. "Oh, hi, bear," I said (my customary reaction when I need to let a bear know it's sharing the trail with a human). Bear looked up briefly and then went right back to pulling blueberries off the bushes, but the hikers were somewhat agitated. "We wanted to wait until you got by it!" I hung around until the bear had moved out of sight and was no longer at risk of causing a less-experienced hiker to panic, not so much worried about the hikers it might encounter as I was about the poor bear who was just trying to have a decent meal without disturbance. Remember: you're in their world out there, so mind your manners and let them go about their business without interruption.

MeadoWatch On Naches Loop

Day 318: It goes without saying that on a clear day, Mount Rainier dominates the horizon in western Washington, rising as it does some 10,000' above the surrounding foothills. Our other volcanoes are similarly situated: Baker, Adams and St. Helens commanding the view from the lowlands around them. Mount Rainier is of course the tallest at 14,410' and nothing near it approaches its height or size. From north, south, east or west, "The Mountain" thrusts its glaciers up from the green forests and alpine meadows, its position in the geology of the area as indisputable as that of any monarch. Today, I hiked a MeadoWatch transect around Naches Loop directly east of the Mountain, counting wildflowers, being distracted by butterflies, passing along cautions to visitors lest they surprise a foraging bear. Naches Loop is a short hike, 3.7 miles with minimal (800') elevation gain. It starts at Tipsoo (a sorely abused spot of once-great beauty) and encircles rocky Naches Peak, bypassing several small ponds and the larger Dewey Lakes to the south. It is partly forested, but for the most part, it passes through subalpine meadow, an ideal location for phenological monitoring with both eastside and westside ecologies at work on the plants. What might be just setting seed on one side may be full-blown on the other, or several phenophases might be apparent within a mere half mile. Likewise, herbivory (munching by critters) may be prevalent on the west and absent on the east. I had done the pre-season hike of the Loop to report problem snow patches or difficulty in finding waypoints, but had not done another MeadoWatch patrol on it until today. I'll be sharing what I saw over the next several posts, so I hope you'll tag along for the walk.

Polemonium Pulcherrimum, Showy Jacob's Ladder

Day 267: Stepping aside from the rare and unusual for a change, I'd like to share with you a lovely little wildflower which is fairly common, particularly on the east side of the Park. One of several "Jacob's Ladders" (so named for the arrangement of the leaves), Polemonium pulcherrimum is a compact plant which seldom achieves heights over eight inches. Its common name of Showy Jacob's Ladder describes its floral display quite accurately; the second half of its binomial comes from the same Latin root as another more descriptive English word, "pulchritude" (beauty). The inflorescences rise above the foliage in clusters of summery blue, their yellow eyes as bright as sunlight in open meadows, "showy" indeed and eminently beautiful in their subalpine setting.

Naches Peak Loop Trail

Day 264: Mount Rainier National Park has over 260 miles of maintained trail. I have hiked all about 20 of those miles, and the ones I haven't hiked are on the east side, each with a trailhead at the furthest possible points from my house. The miles I've put in off-trail (my preferred hiking venue) are another story entirely. I choose to avoid the great unwashed mass of humanity whenever I can, and therefore have always assiduously avoided places like the popular Naches Peak Loop Trail. A few days ago, I was compelled by dual purposes to remedy that. As Team Biota, we were searching for four uncommon plant species within Park boundaries, and as a participant in MeadoWatch (a plant phenology program which sends out volunteers from the Park to report on specific plants' growth phases along designated transects), I had been asked to give a pre-season report on trail conditions on the Loop. Plants aside for the moment and gathering thunderheads notwithstanding, there was a lot of drop-your-socks gorgeous scenery to enjoy along the 3.5 mile trek, including this view of Mount Rainier from the east. The trail was about 90% snow-free, although some slick patches of snow/mud required careful foot placement. Unfortunately, none of our four target plants showed itself. Maybe they're along that last remaining stretch of trail I've never walked...