Manliness and Wildlife

Well, it was a great weekend for sure - lots of manly bonding in a house on a lake. It was a bachelor weekend lived hard by nine guys. It was also an opportunity for me to photograph nature. While I didn't take the same type of advantage I might have in other circumstances, I did manage to photograph some interesting things. I don't really have an overall message to get out with these, and so I may as well go ahead and share the pictures.

This is the house we stayed in, as photographed from the small dock.

A combination of evergreens and hardwoods lined the lake shore.

I hadn't been fishing in fresh water in a long time. This perch was caught by Matt, who had a heck of a day.

This smallmouth bass (Micropterus  dolomieu) was the highlight of my own catch. Between the two of us, we caught about a half-dozen species of fish.

The amphibians were out in force, including this Plethodon cinereus (red-backed salamander) which was hiding out under a board. We startled up a couple of species of frog as well.

I took a hike with Jamie, and these guys were all over the place. They are the juvenile stage of the Eastern newt (Notophthalmus viridescens); I have often heard them referred to as "red efts." This is the terrestrial stage of their development.

This baby raccoon was freaking out in front of the neighbors' porch Monday morning. We discovered him during a quick round of bocce. It made a sound unlike anything I've ever heard from a mammal - something of a raptor's screech tinged with complete terror. It's a shame that I had no idea how to safely help the little guy.

Experiencing nature wasn't really the fullest intent of the weekend. It was more of a male-bonding experience. Still, there's nothing like being outside in a rustic atmosphere to really heighten the testosterone. I think I freaked a couple of the dudes out by killing and eating my own meal (the bass shown above) but that itself was a pretty satisfying feat for a naturalist. Sustainable dining is always a plus.

Species Feature #7, Red Admiral

The photos for this entry were taken on a camping trip to the Outer Banks this past July. Nonetheless, the Red Admiral is very much relevant in the DC area. This species is relatively easy to identify from a top view. The white spots (on a black background) on the forewing tip are fairly distinctive, and you can't miss if you also see the black-fading-to-brown central coloring with orange bands around it. I don't have a good shot of the ventral view, so I'll let Wikipedia handle that for you. Note the mottled coloration and pink bar. I have to say, when I first started browsing a butterfly guide the biggest shock to me was how many species exhibit drastically different patterning on the "top" (dorsal) and "bottom" (ventral) of the wing.

Isn't she a beauty? Also, why do I inherently think of all butterflies as "she"? Am I unconsciously sexist, or is that just over-analyzing?

Vanessa atalanta Quick Facts

Common Name(s): red admiral, alderman

Taxonomic Breakdown:

• Kingdom - Animalia
• Phylum - Arthropoda
• Class - Insecta
• Order - Lepidoptera
• Superfamily - Papilionoidea
• Family - Nymphalidae
• Subfamily - Nymphalinae
• Tribe - Nymphalini
• Genus - Vanessa
• Species - atalanta
  

A superfamily, a subfamily, AND a tribe? Really? I think this is brought on by 1) a staggering number of known species in order Lepidoptera and 2) biologists' obsession with the beauty of butterflies. I'm poking fun, but honestly in this case such minutiae are certainly warranted.

Conservation Status: Not Assessed

Range: This butterfly is found all over the place. In North America, it spans Guatemala to Canada, Hawaii, and the Caribbean.

The same specimen as above takes a break on our tent. Man, was this a wonderful campsite (but I digress).

Since this is the first butterfly species chronicled here, I'll throw down with some basic butterfly information. Like all insects, butterflies have three-part bodies (head, abdomen, and thorax) with three sets of legs attached to the thorax. Also like all insects, they have a pair of antennae and compound eyes. In butterflies, the antennae are clubbed. They also have a pair of palpi, which are sensory appendages attached to the mandibles, as well as a proboscis (feeding tube, if you want to be unpretentious). Butterflies, of course, feature two pairs of showy wings as well. As biologists are wont to do, they have further divided the wings into parts, although most of these are fairly self-explanatory. Parts of the forewing and hindwing are described by terms including: cell, disc, tip, trailing edge, base, outer margin, etc. Understanding these terms is important when using a guide, because they tell you where to look for the characteristic features of a given species.


Now that I've thoroughly bored you with bug parts, my work here is done. In other news, I'll be spending the coming long weekend at a lakeside house in New York. I'm hoping to return with plenty of new material.

Species Feature #6, Tuliptree

The tuliptree, or tulip poplar, is an unmistakeable hardwood found throughout this region. Wikipedia lists it as the tallest eastern hardwood. Why do I call it "unmistakeable"? The leaf and flower are both strikingly distinctive, and can be identified from a distance. Other than its Chinese counterpart (the only other member of genus Liriodendron), nothing resembles it in terms of leaf shape. Some things I did not know:

• It is an excellent lumber tree, because it grows quickly and does not always develop limbs until it is quite tall.
• It is also a major source of honey in the US, although rarely used at the table.
• It is generally found in forests and stands of trees 50-150 years of age, and rarely in those of over 500 years.

Notice how much of the trunk is uninterrupted by branches. It almost seems, from
this photo, as if the leaves come from an entirely different plant.

Liriodendron tulipifera Quick Facts

Common Name(s): tuliptree, tulip poplar, American tulip tree, yellow poplar, tulip tree

Taxonomic Breakdown:

• Kingdom - Plantae
• Division (Phylum level) - Magnoliophyta (aka Angiospermae)
• Class - Magnoliopsida
• Order - Magnoliales
• Family -Magnoliaceae
• Genus - Liriodendron
• Species - tulipifera

Range:  Throughout the eastern United States, except for southern Florida and northern New England. Its western range roughly follows the natural boundary of the Mississippi River.

The flower of the tuliptree.

Isn't that flower beautiful? It's not even open. It's also a good instructional flower, as all of its parts are large and easy to identify. Google can do a better job than I of showcasing the flower's true beauty. Please note that some of the results are not correctly identified... however, that set of photos should be more than enough to get the idea.

This sapling in Watkins Regional Park gave me a good opportunity to capture the leaf shape.

It doesn't take much imagination to see where this tree's name comes from when looking at its leaves.

Well, I've little else to say about this particular species. I have a feeling, though, that anyone who reads this without first knowing what a tuliptree is will henceforth recognize the species forever. One of these days, I will showcase a species that's a little harder to nail down. Eventually.

Century Ride

Well, I don't want to spend much time bragging about accomplishments on this blog - that is quite a departure from the point. However, since yesterday's bike ride was a) a monumental event in my life and b) relevant to several things I've talked about here, a post about it is almost necessary. The event was the CASA River Century, a bike race of 103.5 miles to benefit the Court-Appointed Special Advocate program of West Virginia's Eastern Panhandle. My coworker, neighbor and friend Dustin talked me into it, a job made easier for him since the route ran right through my hometown and past many childhood memories. Though it took the equivalent of a work day, we finished and did so with dignity.

Thanks to our cheering section, who spent the day in Shepherdstown waiting for us to pass and then finish. This photo was taken after 55.4 miles.

Dustin has kept a blog about the whole process (and sandwiches!) I recommend it, but only if you like sandwiches. (If you don't, I recommend some soul-searching. Seriously, how can you dislike something as broad as "the sandwich"?) It certainly captures the idea of just how much of our lives became devoted to this race over the last two-plus months.

From the perspective of this blog, yesterday's race represented the end of part one of my personal challenge, Naturalism on Speed. With my mind so focused on the race itself (the term "race" is used loosely. No one kept time, and riders were not monitored except for safety) I was only able to add four species to the list. These were: common sorrel, striped skunk (carcass), eastern chipmunk, and common sulfur (butterfly). Over 100 miles, I am sure I missed quite a number of species I could have easily nabbed - but, having already cleared my goal by a wide margin it wasn't much of a priority. I did see one additional creature which I was very tempted to count, but I am not confident enough in my fleeting glimpse. A brilliant blue bird flew across my path - too small to be a blue jay but too dark to be an eastern bluebird. My assumption was that this bird was an indigo bunting, but after consulting some guides I realized that there are somewhere between three and six species I could have been seeing. I still think my gut instinct was right, but counting this would violate my own rules.

Sorrel (Rumex acetosa) happens to be the only member of the above list that I have a photo of. Thanks to Laurel for reminding me what this is.

Having never attempted a feat of endurance like this race, it became as much a learning experience as it was a test of my physical limits. What I discovered is that as you near your tolerance levels, it is your mind that can take the strongest hit. I don't know if this is backed up by medical science, but it seemed as if my body could only maintain so many things at that point. Almost every bit of energy it could assign to my brain was used to keep me breathing and to keep sending the necessary instructions to my legs. I found myself doing things like looking at the ground and nearly riding right off the road toward the end. Thinking straight was a real exertion of will. What surprised me most, however, was how little time the exhaustion lasted. After some food and a shower, I felt no worse than I did after our longest training rides, which were between 70 and 80 miles. I guess what that means is that we trained more or less properly.

I don't want to go on and on about this thing, so I'll wrap it up. Suffice it to say that this was a great personal achievement for me, one I'm happy to be able to include in my bragging rights folder. That it was something I could do outside while observing nature is quite a bonus.

Monocacy River Natural Resource Management Area

You won't often see me write negatively about a place set aside to preserve nature. This place, though, didn't seem to offer a whole lot. Don't misunderstand; I'm glad it exists - every pocket of wildlife and natural resource management is valuable. However, purely as a place to go spend an afternoon I wouldn't recommend it - especially not with the plethora of other options available to residents and visitors of this area. The Monocacy River Natural Resource Management Area caught my eye on a bike ride this Saturday, and, looking for something to do early Sunday afternoon, Laurel and I packed up Franklin and set off to check it out.


There is more to the place than we witnessed; perhaps a second visit beginning from the other access point is in order. However, from where we started there wasn't much. In the parking lot off of Maryland 28 were a couple of historical signs and some posted rules (no alcohol, closed at dark, etc). What there wasn't was any sort of information about the trail systems or what facilities it might possess. No maps or handy wildlife guides, either. The immediate area consisted of one rocky trial that appeared to lead to the river bank 100 feet or so away, and one muddy trail disappearing into the woods. Now, to a mycologist like myself that muddy trail looked promising, but it turned out not to offer much even in that department. As Laurel put it, "the two main features of this place seem to be mud and poison ivy." Other than the mushrooms shown below, the only specimens I saw were uninteresting or rotten.

I think these mushrooms belong to the genus Marasmius, but are possibly Mycena. I'm basing this upon the gracile stem that turns almost woody where it connects with the substrate, which in this case was a stick under leaf litter.

Now, I do have to admit that there was some variety in the wildlife we spotted, including a broad range of wildflowers and other ground-covering plants (mayapple, sorrel, ground ivy, etc). In my efforts to photograph some butterflies (which mostly failed) I stumbled across an eastern box turtle. In addition to the butterflies, other insect life was teeming - which was interesting, ticks notwithstanding. Yet the trails themselves were poorly maintained and unmarked. At times we were wading through wet, sticky, deep mud with no provision for going around. We did enjoy a few very pleasant moments where the trail crossed a streambed, but the water was high enough (and the surroundings disappointing enough) that we opted to turn around rather than get wet. I really have little else to say about the day, so I will get on with the pictures.

Daisy fleabane (Erigeron strigosis) was growing quite thickly at the beginning of the trail.

The painted lady (Vanessa cardui) is what the Audubon guide calls "perhaps the most widely distributed butterfly in the world."

What's up with this turtle's beak?  I don't know, but that white glob doesn't look normal.

I thought maybe I could name this millipede using online resources...but the other 9,999 species had something to say about that.

I did learn something from this hike, at least. I had identified this plant as lyre-leaved sage in my Naturalism on Speed challenge (I saw it every day, and I went with sage instead of ivy because it was upright). The leaf shape, and the sheer volume of it, corrected me. This flower is, in fact, ground ivy (Glechoma hederacea). This is why I was glad that I got well over the goal of 550 species.

May Mushrooms

It's May, and for mushroomers that means you're either riding high from a successful morel season or, like me, disappointed once again by your failure to find morels (not that I've been at this long, or tried more than a couple of times). A lot of mushroom enthusiasts are just now waiting for the showier mushrooms of summer and fall to appear. I caution you, though: if this is your thing, don't write off May! Quite a lot of good edibles grow around this time, and it's when you really start to see some variety out there. From this point until about November in this region, you can more or less count on finding some mushrooms of at least middling interest if it's at all wet outside.

So, what's to be found in May? Well, I'll start you off with some species I encountered on the stroll that inspired this post.

I initially thought that the mushrooms depicted above and to the right were wine caps (Stropharia rugosoannulata) based upon their superficial appearance, the season, and their growing on mulch. When I returned I discovered I was mistaken: wine caps have a distinctive ring which seemed to be lacking, though I do note what appears to be a ring zone near the top of the stem. Wine caps also have white gills which turn purplish black - never the brown color seen here. On top of all that, these don't really look anything like any images I can find of wine caps, after all. The question of course becomes, "well, what are they then?" The answer, to my chagrin, remains "I don't know."

I began and remain quite confident that these (above photo only) mushrooms are scaly inky caps (Coprinopsus variegata). The coprinoid mushrooms are possessed of gills which deliquesce as they mature. Most are edible, although the alcohol inky, so named because it is known to contain a substance which inhibits your body's ability to metabolize alcohol, can make you sick if combined with a couple of beers. I have seen this particular spot produce these mushrooms in spring for three consecutive years.

These two photos show varying stages of the mica cap (Coprinellus micaceus), another coprinoid mushroom that's pretty common around here. This one is easiest to distinguish by the tiny granules on the cap (you might have to expand the picture at the left to see them clearly). However, these have a habit of washing or blowing away quite early in the mushroom's life, so you may need to rely on characteristics. Honestly, I haven't had much trouble getting a fairly positive ID on the little guys most of the time regardless. If you plan to eat them, though, just be sure you DON'T have alcohol inkys instead.

Of course, we couldn't forget our old friend dryad's saddle, could we? These things might get boring fast, and might wind up with the record for most appearances in this blog.

At left are some pictures of a few unidentified mushrooms from the later part of my little stroll. I didn't bother collecting these for later analysis, or taking detailed notes, but I coudn't resist a few quick photos. The first specimen could be a small fawn mushroom, or a large fairy-ring mushroom, or something completely different, like an agrocybe. That's a convoluted way of saying I can't tell from my photograph, because it only offers a limited view of one specimen. I won't bother with my wanton speculation on the identity of the second.

What I've shown you thus far hardly exhausts the list of mushrooms one might find in May. I myself have encountered mower's mushrooms (Panaeolus foenisecii), fairy ring mushrooms (Marasmius oreades), orange dog stinkhorn (Mutinus elegans), and crown-tipped coral (Clavicorona pyxidata), among others. The stinkhorn is one of the foulest living things on the planet. It gets is name because it looks kind of like a dog's penis. It has a slimy, oily secretion which attracts flies and smells and looks like feces. When cut, it smells like I imagine Oscar the Grouch would smell.

I will close with an anecdote related to the above picture. Those tasty morsels are oyster mushrooms which became part of last night's dinner. I was biking home from work, which is what I'm usually doing at 5:30 or so on a Thursday afternoon, when I noticed some mushrooms hanging from a stump right at the edge of the path. Maybe a hundred yards later, my mind said "waaaaaaaaaaiiiiiit a minute! Those looked like oysters - and in good shape!" I brought my bike around and pulled off to the side. Sure enough, oysters they were. I didn't have any wax paper, so I put them in the messenger bag I carried and crossed my fingers against their destruction. Think that meal was satisfying? It most certainly was.

Species Feature #5, Mayapple

The mayapple is nearly ubiquitous spring ground cover in the woods of the Mid-Atlantic. I have noticed it so much this year that it seemed to be just screaming for a feature in this blog. The leaf and the flower are both pretty distinctive, so this is an easy species to identify. The fruit is a green oval that develops from the flower site. They are usually found in large groups, with individual plants liked by rhizomes (connecting root structures). Those rhizomes have been used for chemotherapy and as a topical agent, but eating them (or the fruit) is not recommended. These parts of the plant are poisonous, but only in large quantities.

A sizable cluster of mayapple found in Watkins Regional Park last weekend.

Podophyllum peltatum Quick Facts


Common Name(s): mayapple, hogapple, Indian apple, mayflower, umbrella plant, wild mandrake

Taxonomic Breakdown:

• Kingdom - Plantae
• *Division - Magnoliophyta (aka Angiospermae)
• Class - Magnoliopsida
• Order - Ranunculales
• Family - Berberidaceae
• Genus - Podophyllum
• Species - peltatum

*For some reason that doesn't make much sense to me, biologists scoff at the term "phylum" for plants. Instead, between Kingdom and Class they split plants into "Divisions." This division is better known as "flowering plants" which are a subset of "seed-bearing plants (Spermatophytes). Why we don't just refer to these levels as phyla and subphyla is beyond me, but hey, I don't make the rules.

Range: Throughout the eastern US as far west as Minnesota and Texas, and North into Canada in places.

Some younger specimens near Rock Creek Park.

Here is an interesting read on the medicinal history and folklore of the mayapple. This site has a wonderful detail photo of the flower, as well as some good information. As the "mandrake" this plant makes an appearance in Shakespeare (see the quote at the top of the first link).

The flower of Podophyllum peltatum.

For variety's sake, a photo from below of mayapple growing by the roadside.

A Plant Life Refresher

It occurred to me not long ago that for someone who calls himself a naturalist I am a bit lacking in my knowledge of plant life. I used to be, thanks to Boy Scouts and Mrs. Miller's Advanced Biology class in high school, pretty familiar with the trees and wildflowers of the region - or at least I could reliably identify a pretty wide range of species. Two things have come to light recently. One: I've forgotten a lot of what I knew, especially with regard to flowers. Two: I didn't have as "wide" a knowledge base as I thought

It's something I've been working on, especially because tree identity can be crucial information to a mycologist. Some mushrooms simply prefer to feast upon a specific tree or group of trees. It's also somewhat embarrasing to be so into nature and the out-of-doors only to scratch my head when someone says "hey, what the heck is that?" What does all of this mean to you, the reader of my blog? Pictures of plants that I have learned (in some cases relearned) to pick out in recent months, labeled with common and scientific names.

Common pawpaw (Asimina triloba)

Jack-in-the-pulpit (Arisaema triphyllum)

Lamb's ear (Stachys byzantina)

Jimsonweed (Datura strimonium)

Water pennywort (Hydrocotyle ranunculoides)

Common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca)

There's not a ton of information above; this is more of a "look at the pretty pictures" post. These are a half-dozen plants that I will (fingers crossed) never again stare at in utter confusion; hopefully the same will be true for you!

184 Miles of Awesome

That's a good way to describe the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal Towpath (yes, tow, not toe). It begins in Georgetown and stretches all the way to Cumberland Maryland. A cool fact I'd love to exploit one day is that in Cumberland it connects with the Great Allehgeny Passage Trail allowing for a complete bicycling corridor from Washington, DC to the Steel City. As an alum of the University of Pittsburgh living in Silver Spring, this intrigues me. However, as an individual with a 9-5 job, I doubt I'll ever have the time to make such a trip happen. Regardless, there's plenty to enjoy in and near DC along this trail. The history is worth reading up on, if local lore interests you.

Within the first sixty miles there are quite a number of sights. They still run canal boats at the Georgetown end. Great Falls is quite beautiful and kid-friendly, but also quite crowded. The Billy Goat Trail is worth a look, and gives you the opportunity to scramble over boulders and encounter some great views of the river. A little farther out, you can cross the Potomac at White's Ferry on a still-operational river ferry. Harper's Ferry is a quaint and historic town with a lot to offer, including breathtaking views from the Maryland Heights.

Great blue herons (Ardea herodias), as well as other wetland birds, are common sights along the canal.

These giant puffballs (Calvatia gigantea) made a delicious soup.

This enormous tree near White's Ferry I found interesting...if I recall it was a sugar maple, but I can't tell from my own photo. Please ignore the bag of feces in my hand; it's the hazard of being a naturalist dog owner.

This large coprinoid mushroom was another good find at White's Ferry. I think it is a specimen of shaggy mane (Coprinus comatus) because of its large size, but I am not 100% sure. I don't think any other Mid-Atlantic inky caps grow to such sizes, but I could be mistaken.

Argiope trifasciata (banded garden spider).

Here's a close-up of the garden spider. I can't quite tell what she's making a meal of (I say "she" because males are much smaller).

Can you believe that this setting can be found just outside the city, in Great Falls, Virginia?

The ever-present white tailed deer are of course found along the entire length of the trail, more or less.

Dam! (I'm mature, eh?)

Franklin and I checking out the confluence of the Shenandoah and Potomac Rivers, at Harpers Ferry.

All of the above are located within an easy drive of DC, and honestly any access point over that sixty mile stretch has something interesting to offer. Regardless of your age, outdoor experience, or interest level in such things (unless it's zero) I recommend a trip to the C & O Canal Towpath on some lazy weekend day.

Bike Commuting

The first thing one needs for a bike commute. This happens to be where mine starts.

Commuting via bicycle has been a drastic game-changer in my adult life. There are of course real naturalist's reasons for doing so: cutting your emissions, sticking it to Big Oil, getting out into nature, and so forth. Those were some of my reasons for doing it. But really, my reasons were primarily a lot more selfish. It saves money in the long run, it forced me to get into better shape, and it's just plain fun. The benefits surprised me though - I feel better. I'm less often tired. I'm more alert, and hence better at my job. It makes me crave a better diet (well, most of the time). Finally, if you live here you know how much driving around DC sucks. You know how, no matter one's intentions, most of us pick up horrendous driving habits almost as a set of survival skills and thus contribute to the problem. Where I'm going with this is: I hate my commute so much less. Bike commuting has become a great stress-reducer.

I'm not telling you to (yes I am) start commuting (do it) by bicycle. What I am (are you cycling yet) doing is pointing out that if you live in the DC suburbs it is probably an option for you (get on that bike) even if you think it's not. Take my commute for instance. It begins near Downtown Silver Spring and ends, about ten miles later, in Rockville near Randolph Road. Before my friend Dustin told me about it, I wouldn't have thought there was a straightforward bike route between these two places. Yet, almost all of my ride is on the paved Rock Creek Trail. The Maryland 'burbs are full of these trails: The Millenium Trail, The Matthew Henson Trail, The Capital Crescent Trail and Georgetown Branch Trail (which is more or less complete on both ends, despite mapped appearances), are just a few. Virtually all of the roads in and around Potomac are extremely bike-friendly. If that's not enough, organizations like Bike Arlington and WABA will get you started.

OK, all jokes aside I'm not here to instruct anyone on how to live their lives. If biking isn't for you then it just isn't. But, if you're reading this and have ever considered it, I urge you to consider further, and I hope that I have helped make your decision easier. The rest of what I want to share today is simply a series of photos chronicling one day (today) of biking to work. I hope they will be enticing.

This photo doesn't do it justice, but this is what my coworker and I have come to refer to as THE HILL. In the morning this is a pleasant boost of speed; in the evening it's a last hurdle to clear before showering.

Here the path disappears under Connecticut Avenue. Believe me, this is better than the alternative.

...like this truck full of shit.

As with any form of transportation, however, there are just some days when something completely unexpected holds you up.

Here I'm nearing the end of the bike path (well, for me). Occasionally I take the road you can see here - Beach Drive - instead. It's more dangerous but faster... and traffic here generally knows what's up with the bicycles.

This is the only horrendous intersection (well, aside from the one just outside my apartment) that I must deal with. It's not so bad, though - one just has to wait for the light.

I will finish with some uncaptioned photos from the return trip. Enjoy!