Naturalism on Speed: Challenge 2

Welcome back to the silliest feature of my blog, the Naturalism on Speed Challenge. Last year I challenged myself to identify 50 species before the CASA River Century and another fifty by the end of the year. This time I'm going for fifty more, for a grand total of 153. I expect this one to be much harder because so many of the most familiar species are eliminated. Further, since there are only so many terrestrial animals likely to show themselves I will be primarily identifying plants (outside my wheelhouse) and squinting at birds (which move as quickly as I do). I suppose insects might be a promising well to draw from, but those are, well, very small.

As with last time, I'm sure I won't have pictures of everything. After all, I have specifically stated that stopping to get a better look is off-limits, and I haven't mastered the art of photography from the back of a moving bicycle (and will never attempt to do so). Fortunately, the first few species this year are a product of some new wildflower knowledge I picked up within the last week or so, and so I happen to have a few pictures to show off. The top photo is bloodroot, which is sort of sneaky-beautiful Easy to overlook but worth the time to stop for. Photo two is a blanket of lesser celandine, while the third is the familiar mountain laurel.

Some of these may just get their own species features (I'm looking at you, bloodroot). Bloodroot and lesser celandine were the inspiration for returning to this project. They are beautiful wildflowers which bloom in early spring - a refreshing burst of color after months of grays and browns. Violets show equally early and are equally refreshing, but there are quite a few similar species and I have little hope of nailing them down as I rider by. I'm pleased to add mountain laurel this time,  because this was on the "how do I not have this yet" list along with sassafras and chickadees.

The List

I thought about reproducing the original list in this space, but it is something of a wall of text. I'll see if I can figure out a non-obnoxious way to present it later.

1. Ranunculus ficaria (lesser celandine)
2. Sanguinaria canadensis (bloodroot)
3. Kalmia latifolia (mountain laurel)
4. Hieracium pratense (yellow hawkweed)
5. Claytonia virginica (Virginia spring beauty)
6. Lamium amplexicaule (greater henbit)
7. Dryocopus pileatus (pileated woodpecker) added 3/22/12
8. Mertensia virginica (Virginia bluebells) added 4/6/12
9. Dicentra canadensis (squirrel corn) added 4/6/12
10. Haliaeetus leucocephalus (bald eagle) added 4/6/12
11. Phlox divaricata (wild blue phlox) added 4/6/12
12. Brassica juncea (Indian mustard) added 4/15/12
13. Geranium maculatum (wild geranium) added 4/15/12
14. Trillium grandiflorum (large-flowered trillium) added 4/15/12
15. Meleagris gallopavo (wild turkey) added 4/15/12
16. Corvus corax (common raven) added 4/15/12
17. Cardamine concatenata (cutleaf toothwort) added 4/15/12
18. Heracleum maximum (cow parsnip) added 4/15/12

Starting with a little over ten percent accomplished feels good... but it doesn't remove the daunting nature of the task ahead.

Grainy photo of pileated woodpecker snapped in June of 2010.

That didn't take long! One day and one more species to add to the list. This was an awesome one too: the pileated woodpecker. I came across this gorgeous bird as I slipped back into the woods from a road crossing. He was sitting on a stump at about ankle height (from a cycling POV, of course) no more than a few inches from the side of the path. I guess I wasn't making a lot of noise, because he didn't take off until my front wheel was even with him. Never been even remotely that close to such a bird - and that proximity gave me a real sense of its size. It was more than a foot tall, which may not seem like much but is impressive when seen at close range.

My most recent training ride took place outside the usual habitat zone I ride in (on Shenandoah National Park's Skyline Drive, to be precise). As such, I entered with high hopes of really putting a dent in this year's challenge. I did, but not quite to the level I had hoped. Seven new species went on the books, but a few were plants I could have easily picked up in the 'burbs. Unfortunately the black bear I saw was from the car, I only heard the coyotes (at night anyway),  and I couldn't pin down the exact identity of the owl or some of the hawks I rode past. Good get on the wild turkey, though.

New species from most recent edit: 7
Running Total: 121
Animals: 44 (11 mammals, 27 birds, 4 insects, 2 reptiles)
Plants: 72
Fungi: 5

Back in the Saddle

I don't think fierce pedaling would be enough to escape that fellow... 

With the return of Spring (which is now official, if specious) comes the return of cycling. While I have been riding to work intermittently since the end of January, this weekend marked my first ride longer than that. That ride served as a reminder of just how awesome it is to live in the DC suburbs and own a bike capable of handling varied terrain. My route took me through urban streets in Silver Spring, down Beach Drive (closed to motorists on weekends), past (and into) the National Zoo, onto the National Mall, along the C&O Canal Towpath, and back to Silver Spring on a paved bike trail. All of this was less than a 30-mile ride.

Boulder Bridge in Rock Creek Park is one of my favorite cycling landmarks.

 
So what does a new season of cycling mean? Well, I'm doing another century ride, or the same one over again if you prefer something that sounds more zen. The CASA River Century was a lot of fun and training for it was good for me, good for the environment, and good for traffic between Silver Spring and Rockville. Dustin and I will be joined by a third rider this year, and hopefully this time it serves as a prelude to the Sea Gull Century. Other life events might make this difficult, but I think I'll be able to make it happen.

The new season also means a new Naturalism on Speed challenge for me, which may bore the bajeezus out of my readers. Even if it does, it will at the very least hone my knowledge and skills, which in turn will make me better at this*. I'm aiming for fifty new species to add to last year's final total (which will make 153 the magic number). Sunday's ride netted me five or six to get started with. A quick recap of the rules:

1. I have to ID each species positively.
2. I can't stop for a better look, but I can count what I see when I'm already stopped.
3. I must know what I'm seeing when I see it - research can only help for next time.
4. Domesticated animals and people don't count, nor do plants in planters/gardens.
5. I can't count specimens I see all the time and thus have the chance to study thoroughly.
   
   

The sights in DC are iconic and worthwhile - and with a bike you can take in a huge number of them in just a few hours.

I'll close by reminding everyone how bike-friendly the Washington, DC area is. The Capital Bikeshare program is awesome, and there is an extensive network of trail systems. I could conceivably ride (about 90 miles) from my apartment to my parents' house just outside of Martinsbug, WV. The Metro makes it easy to close little gaps in your ride by hopping a train for a stop or two (except during weekday rush hour). The buses are theoretically all equipped to handle your bicycle.








*That's my polite way of saying "deal with it."

12 Months of Nature: February

Like February (that most dismal of months) itself, the February section of  Seasonal Guide to the Natural Year was generally short and forbidding. When conceiving this project, I had expected some months to be easier than others, and even expected to fail spectacularly at achieving the aim of my journey once or twice. But after reading my options for February, I despaired of even being able to put together a trip worthy of this blog... would "12 months of nature" become "11 out of 12 months of nature" so soon?

Option 1, "Winter Hawks" sounded promising until I discovered that all of the recommended spots were prohibitively far away. Option 2, "Tracking" seemed a little too general and unexciting for my purposes. Options 3 and 4 were titled "Lake Eerie Steelhead,"  and "Exploring Winter Beaches," respectively - both of which were also out because of travel time. The final option, "Pelagic Birding Trips," sounded fascinating but requires much more organization than I had the time or inclination to put together. Frankly, I had to look up the word 'pelagic' anyway.


February Event: Tracking

My choice of a human footprint here doesn't mean
I failed entirely...

So, I chose "Tracking" from the list above. I could have instead resigned myself to traveling a greater distance than I wanted to with a good chance of not seeing the hawks or steelhead I sought. The payoff might have been far more interesting. But the conservative approach meant that it would be hard to fail. One of my favorite places, Shenandoah National Park, was a recommended destination. There was the possibility of snow, which would only make track identification easier, in theory. Besides, the point of tracking isn't necessarily to find fauna itself, but to understand and interpret signs of its presence and impact on the environment.



The Location

I have repeatedly talked about this place, and I'm sure it will come up over and over again in this blog. So I won't bore you with redundancies (except in link form). Looking back, though, it's hard to believe I only have one post solely about Shenandoah.

Why there, and Why then?

Well, the guide was right about one thing. There was definitely snow.

The answer to "why there" was sort of unclear... really, one can track anywhere outside. Animals walk, poop, eat, and so forth everywhere. I think the guide suggested Shenandoah primarily because there is a ton of open space, and because wildlife traffic is a lot higher than most places in this region of the US. I had an ulterior motive for going to the park that most of my readers are aware of. So "why then," then? Well, I think they stuck "tracking" in February primarily because it was the toughest month to fill out with reasonable activities, but also because of the likelihood of snow.


The Trip, and What I Learned

Like the previous trip, this one was wonderful. Unfortunately I didn't learn much about tracking - I relied on a few things I already know and just enjoyed getting a good hike in in February. We got to the park pretty early, and chose one of our favorite spots: Mary's Rock. (There are those ulterior motives again). The last time we had done this hike was in the hottest part of the summer, so it was a nice change of pace (and still gorgeous) to hike it with a dusting of snow. What's nice about this hike is that although steep, it's less than a two-mile trip from the parking lot to the summit. And the view is spectacular.

The trailhead - per the sign, much of this hike is on the Appalachian Trail.

We thought this was beautiful - a veritable explosion of color amid the white, gray, and brown.

I have a couple of decent photos of the view from Mary's Rock itself, but I don't feel they do it justice. If you follow the link above there are a couple that almost get the job done, but it's one of those things you just have to see to appreciate fully. Luckily for DC denizens, it's not too far away and you don't have to be a marathon runner to pull off the climb.

When we were finished with that hike, we decided to make a quick stop at one of the park's other notable spots, Big Meadows. As usual, there were quite a few deer nearby (and signs of other fauna, which I'll get to). I have to say, though, that Big Meadows is pretty drab in the dead of winter. There's still a certain beauty to the place, and I'm glad I have seen it in its more dormant state, but I wouldn't put it at the top of my list for winter outings.

Big Meadows and one of the creatures it is famed for. As a nerd about such things, it has often bothered me that "Big Meadows" is a singular proper noun for a place composed of plural meadows. But I digress (as usual).

My guess is these were left by a squirrel. But it's hard to be
certain without a clear footprint.

 You don't even have to be an astute reader to wonder where the bit about tracking is, since that was after all the point of the exercise. Well, to be frank, we didn't find a lot of identifiable tracks, even in the snow. I think the amount of snow was such that it made it harder rather than easier - just enough to cover any visible tracks but not enough to leave good tracks. Also, the ground was still frozen. Any place where deer or some other large animal had clearly been was mostly torn up into a tangled mess. The clearest tracks were those left by fellow hikers and their canines. However, as you'll see below, footprints aren't the only signs one can use as clues to animal activity.

Deer poop

 I apologize for this next photo, but one just can't talk with any reasonable credibility about tracking without briefly discussing poop. It just can't be done. The scat at right belongs to white-tailed deer, although on this trip we also saw quite a bit of carnivores' waste as well. It could have been from foxes, coyotes, bobcats, or possibly just family pets. There was a lot of high fur content, though (you can tell just by glancing) so my guess is "coyote." In the past there was an unfortunate incident involving Franklin and some bear feces, but I don't want to talk about it. So end my scatological ramblings for the day.



A couple of other signs of note were some loose feathers, and some obvious groundhog trails. Photos of those are even more boring than photos of poop, though, so I'll let it go.

When tracking, what a good naturalist is really after is not just  an identity of what had passed this way, but a story of what it was doing and why. If the deer tracks are clustered in one muddy spot, what made them behave this way? Was it a predator? A mating display or fight for dominance? If there's loose fur, did the owner just get snagged on a twig or was there some sort of conflict? How recent are the tracks you're looking at? Was the animal moving quickly or slowly? One thing I noticed was that some of the deer scat was clustered into piles, while other spots were scattered. This led me to wonder why those particular deer were exhibiting divergent restroom behaviors. It's this type of question that can turn one from aware of nature's signs to an expert at interpreting them. Myself, I'm somewhere in between... I know how to ask the questions but not often how to answer them. Good guides on tracking do exist, though I can't offer much in the way of critique. If you're interested in learning how to track and "read sign" I suggest that you research these and select one... but it's really the experience that will teach you. I will leave you with my favorite deer picture from the day.

This young buck is showing his antler velvet... I've never managed a clear photo of this before, so I'll call it a win.

Further Evidence of Spring

This is more of a follow-up than its own post. I don't have a ton of new thoughts to share, but since I wrote yesterday about the signs that spring is upon us I have been hyperaware of anything that could constitute such a sign. I've been looking for them. I continue to be surprised by them. This could be thought of as a validation post (see! I'm not crazy!) There may also be an element of wishful thinking: Spring! morels! biking! BEING OUTSIDE! Laying all that aside, I'll just present some snapshots (all taken today). I'm not going to try to identify what I don't know, or go into detail about what I do know. So please, just look at the pretty things.

In this out-of-focus photo, you can see that some of the topiary at Rock Creek Springs is budding. This appears to be something related to holly, but how closely I don't know.

I don't believe these red berries usually start appearing for a few weeks.

Apparently not only are dandelions already growing, but some have even gone to seed!

Some very pretty blue flowers are also showing themselves.

Crocuses?

I saw these and thought "wow, the daffodils already have buds!" So imagine my surprise...

...when I saw these! Yes, I saved the best for last.

I know this has all been plant-based evidence of Spring. I had hoped to steal a picture or two of some of the robins and other returning birds I've been seeing, but either they weren't cooperating or I was too lazy. I was also both too early and too late to catch the bees in action today.

Seneca Creek State Park and the Return of Spring

I know that around here it's hard to think of this Spring as a "return" from anything. I can't recall a winter this mild. Did we crack three inches of snow? Nonetheless, the signs of mother nature waking up can already be seen, and it is a stark contrast to the grayness of early February. Why, this morning when I took the trash out I saw bees pollinating the bushes lining the front steps. Bees? Yes, bees.

The signs hardly begin and end with bees, but for me that has been the single most surprising among them. On Sunday I took a stroll to Joe's Record Paradise in Downtown Silver Spring, and along the way I noticed a number of small wildflowers already in bloom. For over a week now I have seen green shoots peeking out of the ground in various places, and I've noticed greater activity among the birds and small mammals. It seems odd to be typing this on February 22nd, but I can't argue with what I'm seeing.

Looking for a way to enjoy the warm weather and the rest of nature's early offerings, Laurel and I set out for Seneca Creek State Park on Saturday. It wasn't one of our more intense trips, but we got in a nice four-mile hike around the lake and took in some lovely sights. Unlike our previous new adventure (Monocacy), this park had a lot to offer, and I'm sure we'll be returning sometime in the future. Apart from the beauty of Clopper Lake, the Park had numerous beautiful picnic areas and pavilions. It also extended for unexplored (by us) miles along Seneca Creek. In fact, combined with other area parks, one could stroll through uninterrupted parkland from the Potomac River all the way to Damascus, Maryland. Several of the trails are also available to mountain bikers. It seems both kid-friendly and wild enough to make the most hardened naturalist happy.

Clopper Lake, the primary feature of our day's excursion.

I spoke above briefly of renewed bird activity. Well, in the park we did hear and glimpse a few songbirds, but it was still primarily waterfowl that were on display. In attendance were of course the run-of-the-mill Branta canadensis (Canada goose) and Anas platyrhynchos (mallard). However, we also sighted through binoculars a small flock of Bucephala albeola, or buffleheads. These are fairly easy to recognize by the large white patch at the back of the head (males only). The females have a smaller white stripe slightly lower on the head. I didn't get a precise count, but our flock consisted of at least a dozen birds, mostly female, although some may have been immature males and I was able to pick out for certain three adult males. Additionally, we heard the shriek of at least one bird of prey, though we never caught a glimpse of its owner and I am not nearly adept enough at discerning birdcalls to hazard a guess as to its identity.

The sign also confirmed our suspicions about the presence of beavers.

We also discovered a restoration project aimed at the American chestnut, Castanea dentata. Chestnut blight is a problem in the park, as it has apparently been everywhere the tree occurs.  I'm not sure how likely they are to preserve the trees within the park, but I salute their efforts and wish them well. We may not always know we're doing the right thing when we act on nature, but biodiversity is good and plant biodiversity is suffering greatly in this region. Here's some further reading on the tree and its plight.

I took this photo thinking these were the "shoots" mentioned in the sign above. Thanks to some vigorous Google image searching, however, I no longer think so. Whatever this plant is, I hope it doesn't out-compete the chestnuts.

In terms of other plant life, there were more green things than expected. The pines and American holly (Ilex opaca) weren't surprising, but the mountain laurel bushes already possessed a wealth of green leaves. Even the mosses and prickly vines lent a refreshing color to the landscape. Even a few grasses were peeking through the mat of dead leaves.

The blooming mountain laurels can be seen here as a faint green band.

For those interested, visiting the park is an easy trip from DC and the surrounding area. Simply take Exit 10 from I-270 and proceed East on Clopper Road. The park will be on the left. From Silver Spring this is about a thirty to forty minute drive.

12 Months of Nature: January

I recently discovered a book titled Seasonal Guide to the Natural Year: A Monthly Guide to Natural Events - Mid-Atlantic. Despite the unwieldy title, I was pretty excited to get into it. You see, timing can be everything for the success of a naturalist's outing, and I have never been possessed of the keenest sense for this.* I gleefully proceeded to the counter, slapped down my two bucks, and sped home. (Thank you, Friends of the Library!)

As I began paging through it that evening, I immediately started to envision a new project for From the Suburbs, Naturally. The guidebook is presented in month-by-month format, with several natural events per month. Each of the sixty entries includes recommended locations for viewing these events within the Mid-Atllantic region. I've decided to choose one entry for each month in 2012. I will explore these for myself and chronicle my attempts here. This first one was a doozy - I kind of nerded out.


January Event: Bald Eagle Viewing

This is an ambitious start. Few North American animals are as revered or as majestic as the Bald Eagle. I'm not sure I'll be able to top it in the months to come. The photos are only so good, but this trip was a resounding success. Laurel and I were able to see dozens of birds, some at surprisingly close range and all quite active. I had no idea that there was such a population of bald eagles anywhere close to us.


The Location

The suggested viewing point for wintering bald eagles was Conowingo Dam. Located near Darlington, MD on the Susquehanna River (just after it flows from Pennsylvania into Maryland), this is about a 1.5 hour trip for DC residents. I don't recommend a weekday trip, as most of your driving will be on I-95 or US 1. For a pleasant Sunday, however, this spot was well worth the drive. The dam itself is kind of nifty, and it is a paradise for birders. It is just a short drive (or medium hike) from Susquehanna State Park, which is a small but pleasant park on the river's western bank. We spent some time there after the main attraction. It wasn't particularly exciting in January, but it has potential for a spring/summer visit.


Why there, and why then?

The eagles, along with many other bird species, have identified the dam as a reliable winter food source. It blocks not only water, but fish. Further, when water is released from any of the sluices, it deposits several of these fish in the shallows - often disoriented or dead. Bald eagle numbers climb in the winter, as other food sources grow more scarce - a couple of internet sources cite as many as forty birds counted.

Dam! (Sorry, couldn't resist.) Those rocks at the far right are the tip of an island where the birds congregate, waiting for meals.

The Trip and What I Learned

Something that was entirely new to me: not all bald eagles possess the distinctive white head. In fact, it takes about five years for this to develop, and the immature bald eagles look fairly similar to the golden eagle. I'm still uncertain if any of the birds of prey we observed were golden eagles. Some of them had white markings on the wings that were remarkably similar. A related tidbit: hawks and eagles don't display the marked sex differences in plumage known to occur in smaller birds. Sexing bald eagles can be accomplished by comparing size (see the second question at the link for more).


There was only one other car in the parking lot, yet I knew we were in the right place when we got out of the car and immediately saw an eagle take flight from a nearby tree. Turns out I was wrong... the Visitor Center where we parked was about a mile from the viewing area. When we got out of the car there, though, it was hard to deny that this was the spot. People with notebooks stood behind tripods with serious cameras. I heard a shriek to my left and lo, about forty feet up and almost straight overhead sat a pair of bald eagles. Those soon took to the sky, but were replaced by a spectacle: a dining eagle.

Welcome to Dinner!

I think I may have learned a birders' lesson: if the people with the awesome technology are there, you're in the right place. I have previously learned this lesson as it relates to cycling.

None of the other eagles came remotely close enough for me to snap even a passable picture, but this was far from the end of the activity. We stayed for perhaps two hours, and never went more than a minute or two without seeing one. This is definitely a must-see spot.


 Eagles, however, weren't the sole attraction for naturalists. This site presents a list of other species seen at Conowingo, with shorebirds the main attraction for more experienced birders. Apart from the eagles, we saw black vultures, great blue herons, Canada geese, mallards, and several species of gull. I am almost certain to return at least once when my knowledge base is broader. I'm sure picking out the various species of shorebirds would be fascinating.

There was one other item of note, and it's something of an oddity to me. I noticed several dead mice scattered around the viewing area. The first seemed perfectly normal. After two more I started to wonder. Of course we were there to see birds of prey, so I wondered if they were lost meals. That's pure speculation... it could be that the dam owners use poison, or that the (mild) winter has started to hit the mouse population. I'm partial to the "dropped dinner" theory, so I'll just pretend it's that.

For anyone who is interested, the peak season for bald eagles at Conowingo Dam extends into March, and they can reportedly be seen in smaller numbers throughout the rest of the year.


*Aside: it seems I am always bringing up naturalist skills which I am deficient in. I suppose it's a combination of youth and a desire to learn more.

Caesar's Mushroom

First off: wow! Busy summer. It was busy in a very positive way, but that did lead to two things 1) fewer outdoor excursions and 2) less time to post about them. But I have not abandoned this blog (for entirely selfish reasons; it's a lot of fun and strokes the old ego a bit). Luckily for me, it rained a lot in August/September and thus the mushrooming improved quite a bit. As such, I've accumulated a backlog of images and information to share here.

Astute observers with epic memory will note the absence of a "species feature" title and tag to this post, and there's a good reason for that. What reason? The mushrooms I'm talking about might not even be Caesar's mushrooms (Amanita caesarea) at all. The problem is, A. caesarea is notoriously difficult to distinguish from varieties of A. muscaria in this part of the world - specifically var. formosa and var flavivolvata. It's one of nature's cruelest traps - those varieties are both more similar to Caesar's mushroom and more dangerous than their European counterparts. On either side of the pond, A. caesarea is a choice edible. European varieties of A. muscaria, better known as fly agaric, reportedly cause hallucinations, and are sought after for this purpose. However, the U.S. version will just get you violently ill. It's like a ripped off BBC show that way. Michael Kuo (splitter!) has the North American version of Caear's mushroom as A. Jacksonii, a distinction that further confuses things. Kuo is probably technically correct, but for simplicity's sake I will be discussing the species as Amanita caesarea.

This is the nicest specimen of the alleged A. caesarea I have found. It was a lonely giant of its kind in Rock Creek Park earlier this month.

Before proceeding, I must include another mushroom-eating disclaimer. Don't use my blog as your primary resource. Don't eat mushrooms based on my advice. If you use my blog as inspiration to go learn enough to eat wild mushrooms safely, more power to you.

Now for some good news. I believe the similarities between A. caesarea and A. muscaria var. formosa (I can't speak directly to var. flavivolvata, because I've found no specimens of this) are overblown. Mushroom writers are rightly concerned about an amateur making a mistake based upon their descriptions and getting sick or worse. Some of the differences are in superficial or non-persistent characteristics, which are not usually the best aid to getting an accurate mushroom ID. They are both members of the genus that includes species with such common names as "death cap," "destroying angel" and "fool's mushroom." Amanitas account for 95% of mushroom-related fatalities (thanks Wikipedia). All of this leads to understandable caution. (For more on this general topic, see this entry from a fellow local mushroom blogger.) Fortunately for mycophagists, the deadly ones are much, much easier to distinguish from our hero. This leaves a knowledgeable field mycologist with only the risk of illness - and not much risk of that with enough experience.

Amanita muscaria var. formosa, as found in Watkins Regional Park some time ago. Pictures are not the most reliable way to distinguish mushroom species, but taking a close look at these first two photos is a good start.

How these two species are alike:

Both of these mushrooms exhibit classic Amanita features: the spore print is white, they have both universal and partial veils which persist as volvae (please don't confuse this with vulvae) and rings on mature specimens, their gills are free from the stem.  They are also similar in size, habitat, and season. Both are mycorrhizal with hardwoods and with pines. Both have yellow-to-orange coloring on their caps and white flesh. A key to successful mycology, however, is to learn which things are different and isolate them. Of course, one doesn't want to do so to the exclusion of these basic features, but with experience noting the Amanita characteristics will become second nature, and allow one to focus on some other details.

How these two species are different (the key features):

I think the simplest difference to detect is that A. caesarea has yellow gills while A. muscaria has white gills. This isn't a perfect test, because yellow gills can be so pale as to appear white, and white gills can appear yellow beneath a yellow cap in poor lighting. Another helpful difference can be found around their respective volvae. A. caesarea has a much larger, more persistent volva. A. muscaria tends to have shaggy "skin" near the base of the stem where it meets the volva. Caesar's mushroom has a yellowish stem while fly agaric has a white stem (again, the yellow can fade). Finally, A. muscaria not only has, but is famous for, white warts on top of its cap.  A. caesarea lacks these warts. Any one of the four preceding features is not a sure bet - but all four? Solid. I suppose it is remotely possible to find a specimen of A. muscaria whose warts have fallen off, that has an abnormally large volva and lacks a shaggy stem base, and which appears yellowish in the gills and stem. But doesn't that seem like a long shot to you?

Here's a closeup of the volva of Caesar's mushroom.

This shot was meant to demonstrate the yellow stem and gills - but it also inadvertently
demonstrates how it can be hard to tell if the gills are yellow in the field.

 

Luckily I have this old photo - here you can see A. muscaria var. formosa's  white gills, white stem, and smaller volva. You might be able to pick out the shaggy bits at the stembase as well.

Additional apparent differences:

These are why I think the chance of mistaking one of these mushrooms for the other is slim for careful and experienced mycologists. I will admit the possibility that I'm just not experienced enough. Maybe I'm misidentifying everything, and the range of variability within each species is broader than I think. This is why I've yet to eat any Caesar's mushrooms.

The bulk of these differences are in the caps. Look at the photos of the two species.  Don't they seem quite different? A. caesarea is distinctly orange*, shiny, very striated at the margin, lacking in warts, and possessed of a distinct umbo (that's the bump in the middle). by contrast, A. muscaria var. formosa is pale yellow with slight striations at most, many warts, and no umbo. Using these features for IDing a mushroom is a lot like performing a physical task with bad form - positive results are possible, but you're not putting yourself in the best position for achievement. All of those features are variable within each species and can be changed by the environment, given time. And yet, every time I have collected a specimen of either of these species, it has gone this way: I have noted at first glance that it superficially resembles one species or the other. I have taken notes, brought the specimen home, and obtained a white spore print. Upon examining the four key features above I have corroborated my field guess. This has held true for four or five ocurrences of each species. So what I'm saying is that in theory this group of features is not to be used as a definitive identifier, but experimentally they hold up as a reasonable predictor and starting point.

*since these mushrooms are named for a certain Caesar who purportedly had a taste for them, have I discovered the origins of the name "Orange Julius"?



In addition to the links above (mushroomexpert.com, wikipedia, roger's mushrooms, and the free dictionary) I used the following texts as sources: The National Audubon Society's Field Guide to Mushrooms: North America, Simon and Schuster's Guide to Mushrooms, 100 Edible Mushrooms (Michael Kuo), and Field Guid to Wild Mushrooms of Pennsylvania and the Mid-Atlantic (Bill Russell).

Challenge Complete!

I had to rent some wheels this time - my own bike was out of
commission. A part is on order...

The Naturalism on Speed Challenge is complete! I left for vacation last weekend just two species short of my goal of 100. The five new species I was able to add while cruising Highway 12 on the Outer Banks fell short of my lofty ambitions for the trip (after all, it's a completely different environment) but were more than enough to put me over the top. The new additions are not likely to be seen in the DC suburbs (though I have seen laughing gulls this far inland). While that makes them a little off-topic for the blog they're well within the rules of the challenge. Speaking of rules, I'll recap. The basic premise is to identify species from a moving bicycle. To keep this different from simply identifying wildlife in general, I imposed the following five restrictions:

1. Listed species must be identified to species while riding, with certainty. 
2. No unnatural stops are permitted. 
3. Retroactive identification is also not permitted. 
4. Domesticated animals (and humans) do not count. 
5. Plants which grow at my apartment complex or other very familiar areas (my workplace, my parents' house, etc) are ineligible.

Species #99 - Laughing Gull (Leucophaeus atricilla)

Species # 100 - Sea Oats (Uniola paniculata)

Species # 101 - Brown Pelican (Pelecanus occidentalis)

Species # 102 - Adam's needle (Yucca filamentosa)

 Not pictured: Species # 103 - American beachgrass (Ammophila breviligulata)

This brings me to a final count of 103 species: 58 plants, 23 birds, 11 mammals, 5 fungi, 4 insects, and 2 reptiles. "Final" is a bit of a lie, because I do intend to keep adding to this list as I continue to cycle and to explore the natural world. The marriage of  these two hobbies has been too great an experience to discontinue simply because I reached an arbitrary milestone.

Hike from the New Digs

Most folks reading this already know, but I moved a few weeks ago. It wasn't far, so exploring the neighborhood is really more a matter of seeing the same neighborhood from a slightly different perspective. Still, it's been interesting seeing nature from this new vantage point. I have an altered bike route to work, the grounds of the new apartment are landscaped differently, and the surrounding area is a little more residential. I'm still close to most of the same parks and green spaces, and yet the slight shift in perspective seems to have shaken up my mindset enough that different details stand out.

I noticed this last weekend when taking my first long hike from the new base of operations. It wound through some of the same areas of Rock Creek Park I have blogged about before. I returned up the same section of East-West Highway I used to live on. Yet this hike was different than any previous ones in terms of which living things stood out to me. The next day I took an out-and-back bike ride along Sligo Creek Trail - a ride which allowed me to add about ten new species to my Naturalism on Speed challenge. It's been quite a while since I added more than two or three after a single ride.

A flowering plant along Portal Drive was the first new thing to draw my attention. Its leaves were shaped like a child's drawing of a Christmas tree, and its small flowers ranged from pale violet to white. It had a row of spines along the stem, and these occurred in pairs opposite one another. These spines were also present on the underside of the leaf. (Wow! Typing this paragraph has reminded me just how much plant life review I need if I want to appear knowledgeable. I just don't have the biological vocabulary to be precise.) I've no idea what this plant might be, so if anyone can ID it from the photo below please leave a comment.

Mystery Plant #1.

The next "new" thing I noticed is probably best explained by a picture. It's something I see all the time, but last weekend was the first time I thought it might make a nice photo.

This is a reminder that oyster mushrooms are appetizing to more than just humans. Also, it's hard to tell from this photo but that was one enormous slug.

Mystery plants were a theme of the day. Number two was a ground-covering plant lining much of the trail through the park. I see this plant often but until lat weekend my mind filed it as part of the background, and therefore not an item of interest. It had a long whiplike flower and large leaves relative to the overall plant size. Once I noticed it I saw that it was quite prevalent throughout the northern section of the park. Again, if you have any clue as to this one's identity from the photo below please let me know!

Mystery Plant #2

It was while climbing THE HILL on the way back that I collected my one big mushroom find of the day. This was a large patch of Chlorophyllum molybdites, sometimes known as the green-spored parasol since *dramatic pause* it looks like a parasol mushroom and has green spores. This mushroom is an old friend and among the first handful I learned to reliably identify. The "new" of this encounter was that I hadn't before considered the narrow strip of grass between the main lanes of East-West Highway and the access road as fertile ground for a mushroom search. Looking back, though, these aren't the first mushrooms I've seen there.

Franklin didn't care one bit about the mushrooms, but it sure looks like he's proud of something here, doesn't it?

This brings me to my final mystery plant (well, there was a mystery tree as well but I didn't take any pictures). This plant was enormous for a non-woody plant. It stood easily eight feet high, and likely closer to ten. Its leaves were each larger than my head. I can't really think of any identifying features other than its size, so I'll just show you. If you know what this thing is, you know what to do.

The leaves of Mystery Plant #3

 

 

 

Mystery Plant #3 in all its monstrous glory.

Coming down the home stretch of the hike, I started seeing a plant I'm familiar with but had never really noticed in Silver Spring: pokeweed. This stuff has berries that start as white flowers which turn green and then a deep, nasty-staining purple. I'm confident enough that the species is American pokeweed (Phytolacca americana) that I counted it in my little challenge when I saw more of it the next day.

Pokeweed in the green (and thus not yet fatal to garments) stage.

I guess the takeaway from last week's experience is that however familiar I think I am with the natural environment, there's always something there I hadn't noticed before. Whether my move had anything to do with my shift in perception is immaterial - what matters is that the diversity of life is great enough to continually provide new surprises.

June Mushrooms

June is already drawing to a close, but most of this month has been so dry here that I haven't really seen a lot of mushrooms. Honestly, this whole year has been pretty weak for my mycological exploits - but enough whining. June is when mushroom variety really begins to assert itself. As always, let me warn you not to eat any wild mushroom (even those I say are safe to eat) unless you know what you're doing. There is too much room for error between my blog and your plate to use this as an edible mushroom guide.

With the exception of morels, most of the mushrooms seen in May can still be found in June (nature, of course, isn't as conveniently divided into months as our calendar). The coprinoid mushrooms (inkys) are a bit more scarce by this time, but I did see a batch of them just yesterday afternoon while walking the dog. The ubiquitous oyster mushroom can also still be found. If you were to walk outside on June 15th and wander long enough, you could probably encounter most mushrooms from last month's post in addition to those featured below.

A personal favorite of mine, the ash-tree bolete (Gyrodon merulioides), begins to fruit in June in this area. For Silver Spring residents, these grow gregariously and predictably in Falkland Chase Apartments (where I used to live) from mid-June through late July. You can find them to the North of East-West Highway in the courtyard which lies just behind the big sign (weather conditions permitting, of course). I find this mushroom absolutely fascinating, as it can only be found near white ash, though its relationship to the tree is indirect. It exists only in the presence of a species of aphid which in turn only eats white ash leaves. Unfortunately, its taste is, erm, not good. I'm being charitable.

It's ugly and it's gross, but it's interesting.

In the showy category is the pretty - and often huge - Chlorophyllum molybdites. I have found a number of patches of these in the greener areas around downtown Silver Spring. They are easy to identify because they resemble parasol mushrooms but have green spores. The spore print they make is, in my opinion, about as beautiful as this hobby gets. As they age, specimens of this mushroom will literally become green around the gills. They'll make you sick, though, so don't eat them.

A button sitting on the gills of a mature specimen. I believe I measured this one at an eight inch diameter.

An unusual but commonly found summer mushroom is the crown-tipped coral (I know it as Clavicorona pyxidata, but it has many synonyms). This is another easy-to-identify mushroom because unlike other similar species it grows from rotting wood.  If it looks like the photo below and grows from wood (not terrestrially), then you can be pretty sure you're looking at crown-tipped coral. Then, it can be eaten! But not too much, because it is known to have a laxative effect. I have tasted this, both on its own and in an omelette, and would rate it as "passable."

One of the first wild mushrooms I tasted, this specimen was found in Shenandoah National Park.

The tree ear, or jelly ear (Auricularia aricula), is another interesting mushroom that I usually start seeing in June. It's a jellylike but still somehow leathery mushroom which grows from trees and logs. It's fairly distinctive and can be seen just about anywhere in this area if one looks hard enough. The odd thing about this one is that mycologists have been known to chew it like gum while out on a hunt. Now, I love mushrooms, but... well, YUCK.

When I see this, I don't think "chewing gum," but to each his own I suppose.

Unfortunately, in June I have also encountered Amanita phallioides and Amanita virosa (known as the "death cap" and the "destroying angel," respectively). I could get technical about things like "species complexes, but I feel that such digression would cloud the issue that THESE WILL KILL YOU if eaten. The Amanita genus in general should be avoided and its characteristics learned by those who have any intent at all of eating wild mushrooms. These two mushrooms are the greatest contributors to the death toll of the unwary.

This scratches the surface of what a mycologist can find this month. After all, I've covered only six species plus another handful of May leftovers. I wanted to highlight the variety of mushrooms out there by showing a few vastly different ones rather than inundating my faithful readership with page after page of photos and descriptions.