Pink Thing On The Bald

Day 238: About half a mile in, the Rimrocks trail begins a short, slow climb which opens out into a bald covering roughly 1200 square feet. The soil is thin, bedrock showing through in several places, and yet it supports a small plant I've seen nowhere else. One of yesterday's goals was to see if "the pink thing on the bald" was in bloom. Pink thing? I was scraping my memory for the name. As I came up the incline and a pink haze of four-inch tall flower stalks came into view, I said aloud, "Plectritis? Hmmm...now why did that word spring to mind? Plectritis? I'm not sure that's right, but why am I thinking it?" I took the requisite pictures for a Penny Perspective, and then kept going, muttering "Plectritis?" to myself every now and then until I had reached my chosen turn-around a mile further on. The climb to the top of the bald is steeper coming back the other way, although still very short, and as I mounted it, the words "Plectritis congesta" fell from my lips. Even so, I still wasn't convinced that the Latin applied to this particular plant, but when I got home, it was a simple matter to verify that my aging memory was indeed intact by checking my blog. It's been three years since I had to pull those words out of my mental database. Known commonly as Sea-blush, what's this species doing so far inland?

Plectritis Congesta

Day 242: As long as I was already in Rimrock County Park on a Sanicula hunt, I thought I'd check on the...um...uh-oh...the word is in there somewhere...that pink thing up on the knob. Maybe it's because it's pink, or maybe it's because I've only found it in one location, but the name "Plectritis congesta" doesn't want to stick between my ears, nor "Sea-blush," because the aforementioned location is significantly inland of any salt water. How it came to grow on top of an exposed rocky knob where little else but Scotch broom has put down roots is a mystery to me, but this is one of the things I enjoy about hiking in Rimrock. Owned by the county, the park is undeveloped. Evidence suggests that it was clear-cut many years in the past, but even as second or third growth, the acreage offers a good variety of "pocket ecologies." I've found several plants there which I have not seen elsewhere, including Sanicula crassicaulis, Erythronium oregonum and a DYD ("Damn Yellow Daisy") which will be the subject of tomorrow's post. Lots of "bunny-trails" lead off the main path, established by deer and going nowhere in particular, as tangled as a plate of spaghetti. There are no broad views, although if you know where to stand, you can get a glimpse of the Rimrocks, and even through a screen of alder foliage, they're an impressive sight. But even so, I seldom hike for the broad view. My preferred "scenery" seldom exceeds a foot and a half in height. Plectritis tops out at about eight inches, a pink Marine buzz on a rounded pate of exposed rock. That's worth challenging a few nettles to see.