Playing With Matches

Day 56: Three species of Matchstick Lichen occur in North America. One is confined to the coastal areas in Washington, and the other two appear frequently in Longmire and other Park locations, but unless you are looking for them specifically, you would probably pass them by without a second glance. Shown here with a fir needle for size comparison, Pilophorus clavatus (Tapered Matchstick) exhibits club-shaped, black apothecia atop podetia (stems) which may take on a reddish hue under certain conditions. Pilophorus acicularis (Devil's Matchstick) is similar in size, but has obviously round apothecia. Both species are "pioneers," i.e., they are capable of colonizing in a very thin layer of dust and can be found growing on otherwise bald rocks. Take a magnifier with you if you're hiking the Rampart Ridge trail, and if you happen to notice someone down on their knees in front of a rock, that's probably me, playing with Matches.

A Run Around Rampart Ridge

Day 54: With snow on the ground at Longmire, I figured I'd have to turn around before I reached the crest of Rampart Ridge, 1200 feet higher. My original intention was to check on the Tilachlidium which, if you stay tuned, will make a healthy and happy appearance in an upcoming post. I was worried it might have succumbed to wintery temperatures and humidity, but when I discovered it in good shape, I went off-trail to search for other examples. In a 100-foot radius, I could not find any more. I will have to expand my search area later. At any rate, I decided to keep going up Rampart's steep east end and when I reached the intersection with the trail to Van Trump Park, the ground was still relatively snow-free. I checked the time on my camera. Could I finish off three more miles and be back before Kevin wanted to head home? I thought it might be possible, if only marginally. The ridgeline is relatively flat for almost a mile. I won't say I ran it, but I definitely was travelling at a good clip, even moreso when I started down the switchbacks of the west end. Only pausing briefly to speak with a visitor at the viewpoint, I made it back to Longmire with an hour to spare, five miles and a twenty-minute Tilachlidium hunt in just a little over two hours.

Mystery Fungus

Day 19: You have undoubtedly begun reading this expecting that at some point in the narrative, I'll tell you what this is, maybe even give you a natural history lesson to accompany it. If so, you can just keep walking because it not only has me puzzled, it has our Park plant ecologist Beth Fallon baffled as well. I suggested that it may be in the genus Phycomyces, a group of mold fungi which grow on a variety of substrates, most commonly on animal scat but also on other fungi. Looking at it under the microscope reveals that the filaments are growing out of/on a gilled structure, possibly Pleurocybella porrigens (Angel Wings). Some of the filaments are hair-like; others show many tinier filaments branching off from the main ones in a manner which calls to mind Usnea lichens (no, this is not a lichen). Beth and I are both out of our depth here, so we'll be sending off photos and possibly specimens for expert identification.

Update - We have an ID: Tilachlidium brachiatum, formerly known as Clavaria brachiata or Pseudonectria tilachlidii, it was given the distinction of its own genus based on genetic analyses. It is thought to be non-discriminatory with respect to the host fungi on which it grows.

Bio-Blitz Big Day

Day 221: Under an ominous weather forecast, today's Bio-Blitz teams were wondering if the event was going to turn into a swim meet before they returned with their species surveys. It had been raining rather vigorously when I left home, but during the preliminary briefings, precipitation dwindled to a light drizzle. We dispersed to our various assignments, and my crew headed up Rampart Ridge. Our goal was to make the entire loop, but it quickly became apparent that we had too much to document in the time allotted to us, so after taking close to two hours to complete the first mile, we began considering alternatives. By the time we reached the overlook, we had recorded over 70 images of lichens, bryophytes, fungi and mycoheterotrophic plants and it was time to turn around. We took a brief lunch in a light shower, the only real rain we'd experienced up to that point.

Among the species we documented were Round-leaved Sundew (Drosera rotundifolia), both Pilophorus acicularis and clavatus (Matchstick lichens), and one solitary specimen of Usnea. We found two examples of a colour variation of Corallorhiza maculata (canary yellow!) and a number of emergent Allotropa virgata (Candystick) and Hypopitys monotropa (Pinesap). All in all, it was a very rewarding day, and it only started raining in earnest as we made our final approach to the Longmire parking area. Bio-Blitz was a blast!

Ice, Stone And Flow

Day 51: In my hand is a dog-chewed, yellowed, taped, and altogether cherished book entitled "Water Wonders Every Child Should Know," by Jean M. Thompson, published in 1914. It was my mother's when she was a child, and I came to love it long before I understood the science. In fact, it was my introduction to the fantastical frozen world I later sought out as a mountaineer, that realm where ice takes form as complex crystalline structures with a beauty found otherwise only in the arctic lands. In my climbing years, I saw ice-coated rocks, each face bearing an entirely different series of shapes: curls, coils, bubbles, prisms, columns and the like, and whole mountaintops blanketed in long feathers of wind-etched rime. I first met snow-rollers in those pages, and only later discovered them on the high slopes of Mount Rainier and other northwestern peaks, and in some alpine meadows as well, where conditions favoured their formation. In the depths of crevasses, I found perfect hexagonal plates, seemingly pierced through their centers, arranged on a central spindle of ice like tomatoes on a shish-kebab skewer. I will not say that I have seen all the wonders described in Ms. Thompson's book, but I have had a fair sampling.

Even though my tolerance for cold is growing less as I age, the magical kingdom of frost and snow still fascinates me. Stiff in layers of wool and fleece, I may still be found on my hands and knees at the base of some small fall of water, admiring Nature's most impermanent art.