Meet the Bio Bus

”What the….?” must be the reaction of many a motorist sharing the highway with this RV, decked out in snazzy graphics depicting North American wildlife, especially insects. The story behind this rig is truly intriguing, and we owe it to our neighbors to the north for coming up with the idea.

I had the pleasure of spending a day with the Bio Bus team at Picacho Peak State Park north of Tucson, Arizona on April 20, 2010. It was the culmination of a desire to meet one of the members of the crew since about 2002.

While soliciting photographers to contribute images to the Kaufman Field Guide to Insects of North America, I had the good fortune to cross paths with Jay Cossey, a professional nature photographer in Canada. He has stayed in touch ever since, and was delighted to inform me that he had gotten this job a couple years ago. Jay figured that at some point the Bio Bus would be passing near Tucson, and sure enough, here it was.

The Bio Bus is a research effort of the Biodiversity Institute of Ontario, based at the University of Guelph. It has been on the road since 2008, traveling across Canada for the most part, but also venturing into the U.S. as spring and summer slowly creep northward. The goal of the mission is to collect mostly invertebrate specimens for DNA “barcoding,” a method by which one gene with species-specific variation is used to identify a species. The result is that many “species” formerly recognized by mere morphological (physical) characteristics turn out to be a complex of species that are discernable only through genetic analysis.

The RV, which rides like a dream, amazingly enough, can accommodate four people along with all the gear necessary for navigation, collection, and day-to-day living. Graduate students and others rotate along the route, but Jay has been a pretty constant presence since last year.

This year’s organizer, Jill, has been there, too, making certain that permits are secured for collecting in state and provincial parks, making contacts ahead of the bus’s arrival, and generally being an incredibly diplomatic ambassador for the project.

Our day at Picacho Peak was reasonably productive, though the most abundant insects were large blister beetles (Lytta magister) that eventually became rather annoying with their droning flight drawing our attention from other creatures. We ended the day with a tasty dinner at a steakhouse in Tucson.

Thank you Jay, Maneer, Rene, and Jill for the warm welcome and camaraderie in the field. May you have a successful journey up the west coast and back across Canada this summer.

Please visit the Bio Bus website. Also, be on the lookout for a “Gigapan” of all of us atop the RV at Gigapan.org. Hopefully, one of those big blister beetles didn’t fly in front of the lens….

Tumamoc Hill

I finally got my act together and made my first ascent of Tumamoc Hill, just west of downtown Tucson, on Easter Sunday, April 4, 2010. The public is only permitted on the property during weekends, and you must stay on the paved road at all times. Why? Well, this particular parcel of land has a very unique history.

The sign pictured above reads: University of Arizona Desert Laboratory, founded in 1903 as the Carnegie Desert Botanical Laboratory, Tumamoc Hill, United States Geological Service. Indeed, this butte has served as a living laboratory for a very long time, and non-university and non-government personnel need to be restricted to protect the study plots. Consequently, the area is closed to the public weekdays from 7:30 AM to 5:30 PM. The hill is very popular with the exercise-minded on weekends. Birdwatchers, botanists, and nature lovers in general also visit. I spotted this Cooper’s hawk while at the summit.

The Carnegie Institution of Washington chose this site to establish an ongoing study of the adaptation of plants to aridity, beginning in October, 1903. That mission continues to this day. The University of Arizona purchased the facilities (several buildings occupy the area) in 1956 to house their new department of geochronology.

Meanwhile, the United States Geological Service (USGS) conducts two major long-term projects: Biotic response to climate variability; and Landscape change in the Southwest.

Walk all the way to the top and you might see a flock of white-throated swifts, or some of the insects they are feeding upon. You will also be treated to some pretty stunning views of Tucson (with the Rincon Mountains in the background), and the Santa Catalina Mountains.

The entire butte is 860 acres (3.5 square kilometers), but 320 acres, including a handful of study plots, changed hands in February, 2009. This came as a result of a state trust land auction in which Pima County made the winning bid (and only bid). Prior to that, Tumamoc Hill was more or less the poster child for a movement to reform state trust land policies. A 2006 effort to change the state trust land system via a state constitutional amendment failed.

Human occupation of this site actually dates back as far as the Hohokam tradition of the Native American Southwest. With any luck, our collective footprint on Tumamoc Hill will continue to be relatively light, while continuing to shed light on the changes in climate, flora, and fauna here.

Springtime in Pima Canyon

The Southeast Arizona Butterfly Association had a field trip to Pima Canyon last Saturday, April 3, and I was privileged to be invited to go along. I wish to thank Fred Heath for furnishing transportation. Our small group was looking mostly for butterflies, of course, and we collectively saw twenty-one species, but it was the incredible variety of wildflowers that got our attention most of the time.

Fred is very knowledgeable regarding the flora of the Santa Catalina Mountains, where Pima Canyon is located, and he was able to name most of the flowers, and find cryptic ones. I passed right by this larkspur (Delphinium), for example, assuming it was “just another lupine.”

Most of the time, this canyon runs dry, but the winter rains and snowmelt this year have the water cascading down the stream in abundance. The extra moisture meant that we saw flowering plants typical of more moist riparian zones. Take this common monkeyflower, Mimulus guttatus, for example.

The flowers, in turn, did offer nectar for many of the butterflies we observed.

This Texan crescent, Phyciodes texana, was flitting from blossom to blossom on the common fiddleneck (Amsinckia menziesii) that is so abundant right now.

Pima Canyon is just a short drive outside of Tucson, and a very popular spot for hikers, so it can be a bit crowded on weekends. Just the same, I encourage visitors to southern Arizona to consider this scenic canyon as a potential day trip. It takes a bit of time to get into the heart of the canyon, but once there the shade afforded by the cliffs, cottonwoods and other trees is a welcome relief from the heat. You can always cool your heals in the creek, too, provided it is running, of course.

Catalina State Park

My friend Margarethe Brummermann was kind enough to invite me to join her for a hike in Catalina State Park last Tuesday, March 30. I had never visited this park in spring before, and this year is so spectacular that I couldn’t pass up the chance to see what the landscape looked like.

Catalina State Park actually lies within the Coronado National Forest, and is known for the nearly 5,000 saguaro cacti within its boundaries. Indeed, there are some truly magnificent specimens of this giant to be found there.

The park was slated to become a housing development in the early 1970s, known as “Rancho Romero.” However, a petition to re-zone the land for this purpose met with stiff public resistance. State Representative Charles King of Tucson then requested a feasibility study to assess the options for protecting the scenic and historical area. Though it was found the acreage met the criteria for a state park, a vote by the Arizona Parks Board on December 10, 1973 was against that idea.

Subsequent grassroots efforts and coalitions of non-profit groups ultimately led to King submitting House Bill 2280 to the 1974 session of the state legislature. It passed, and was signed into law by then-Governor Jack Williams on May 1, 1974.

The park’s master plan was crafted by many players, including students at the University of Arizona. It was approved on December 9, 1977. Still, the park’s current status was not fully achieved until April 22, 1991 when the last land exchanges became final.

Today, park visitors can enjoy all manner of passive recreation, from hiking to horseback riding, camping and picnicking. A day at the park costs $7 per vehicle, or $3 for an individual on foot or bicycle. Thankfully, despite closure of most state parks in Arizona due to a government budget crisis, Catalina State Park remains open, at least for now.

What can you expect to see in the park, besides saguaros? Well, how about some of the more than 150 species of birds that have been seen there? I can also attest to lizards, butterflies, and a seemingly endless variety of wildflowers that call the place home. You can see a few of them over at my Flickr photostream.

Thanks again to Margarethe for the great company, and sharing her own knowledge of flora and fauna.

Sonoran Desert Spring

John Alcock’s book by that name is a truly delightful literary introduction to this season in southern Arizona. This particular year is made even more dramatic, however, by the atypically regular series of rains we have had over the last three months or so. The extra precipitation has resulted in a truly lush and colorful landscape.

A trip to the Sabino Canyon Recreation Area on March 19, and to Esperero Canyon on March 27 revealed both creeks running full and fast. Both canyons are in the Santa Catalina Mountains just north of Tucson. The dam in Sabino Canyon was positively roaring with the cascading flow. Esperero Canyon is normally bone dry at this time of year, but the pools and riffles are a welcome sight there, too.

Elsewhere, the rain has soaked into the dusty soil and wildflowers have sprouted in an abundance not seen for decades in some locations. I usually lament missing the show, since the legendary floral exhibitions are usually a fair car ride away and I don’t drive. Imagine my delight in finding a wonderland only a short walk west from downtown Tucson.

Sentinel Peak Park is a city park that includes a butte of that name (known as “A” Mountain to locals, owing to an enormous concrete “A” on its eastern slope, painted in the red, white and blue colors of the University of Arizona), but the area immediately behind (west of) that promontory offers a more spectacular view right now. I discovered that a trail across the “saddle” between two other buttes took me through a glorious field of poppies, lupine, and other wildflowers.

Here is a true “magic carpet” of fleeting duration, transporting one to a fantasyland of natural wonder. Where one would normally find only the gray-green of mesquites and cacti, here now are great swaths of yellow-orange, punctuated by spears of violet-blue lupines and white lyreleaf jewelflowers.

The floral fireworks may be just beginning. I see that the pink (and vermillion) globemallows have just begun to bloom, and soon creosote bush will be coming on strong, along with the palo verde trees.

I feel truly privileged to be a spectator of the season, especially this year. One of the other hikers I met in the park said that friends of hers who had been living in Tucson for decades hadn’t seen anything like this since about 1983. Indeed, a show like this is as rare as a comet in these parts.

Spring Peepers

One of the many things I love about Facebook is that my nature-loving friends will note harbingers of the changing seasons. Lately, I have begun reading that some folks are already hearing spring peepers, a type of treefrog. Given the harsh winter this year, a more appropriate reaction might be “It’s about time.”

Spring peepers bear the scientific name Pseudacris crucifer, in reference to the “X,” or cross-like pattern usually evident on the backs of these diminutive amphibians. Mature adults are only two or three centimeters in length, but they make up for their small size with a big voice.

Males broadcast in synchronized choruses from a variety of wetland situations throughout most of North America east of the Mississippi River. The sound can carry up to a quarter of a mile. What you normally hear is the courtship song designed to attract females. The males are quite protective of their small territories, however, and another intruding frog will elicit a short trill of aggression.

Making a racket is risky, though, as you can also attract predators. So, there is something of a ventriloquistic element. Just try finding one in the act of calling, even when it is in close proximity, on the ground or on vegetation.

After mating, females lay clusters of eggs in a gelatinous mass under water, attached to aquatic vegetation or at the bottom of a small pond. In fact, a favored habitat of this species is vernal pools, temporary wetlands in an otherwise forested habitat.

Egg-laying can continue into the summer months, but the tadpoles hatch in 7-10 days, taking from five to eight weeks to metamorphose into tiny versions of the adult. The larvae are highly vulnerable to aquatic predators including turtles, salamander larvae, and even large insects like dragonfly nymphs.

You would think that tiny frogs known as “spring peepers” would be found in….spring. Apparently they are not limited to that season, since Dave Small, Lynn Harper and myself found one in a meadow in the neighborhood of the Quabbin Reservoir on the fourth of October, 2009. Prior to that, my initial encounter with Pseudacris crucifer had been at Dave’s home, where at least one frog sat patiently beneath the mercury vapor light, awaiting any errant insects that were attracted to it.

Here’s wishing that you hear your own springtime serenade any day now.

I'm Not Ready!

There is one thing worse than not having your camera handy when something extraordinary happens, and that is when you are presented with an opportunity but have no clue how to operate the settings on your camera to take a good shot. Such is what happened to me on Friday, March 5 at John F. Kennedy Park in South Tucson.

Kennedy Park is a large, multi-use park with a lake, stage, and hiking trails. Near the amphitheatre I managed to flush an adult red-tailed hawk from its perch atop a utility pole. I noticed that it had not flown far, though, and surmised it landed on the next pole, farther away.

I carefully plotted how to sneak closer, where the 20X zoom on my Canon SX10 might still be able to register a decent image. The band shell of the concert area provided good cover, so, averting my gaze from the watchful Buteo, I strode to where it could no longer see me. I then came back along the stage, to one of the entrance/exit points.

I was quite proud of my stalking abilities, but got the start of my life when I looked out the “doorway.” In a tree not more than fifteen feet away, at virtually eye level, sat another hawk!

I thought my largely internal reaction was somehow going to manifest itself in my body language or audible inhalation and the hawk would immediately take flight. Such was not the case. It was clearly a fledgling, which no doubt accounted for its inexperience and tolerance. Still, I tried to keep hidden while struggling to get my camera working as silently as possible.

This was the unfortunate, typical result of not knowing what to do beyond point, zoom, and shoot on “Auto”: it would have been a perfectly good image of tree branches, had it not been for that silly red-tail in the way (sigh). How do you bird photographers do it?

The shade of the tree and the band shell didn’t help any, but I can’t blame the bird. Here it was early afternoon with the sun getting hotter by the minute. Eventually, I did manage a couple of respectable shots, which when cropped are in my own “tolerable” category.

Meanwhile, I got a good shot of mom (or dad), too, before they took off, guiding their offspring on another practice flight or hunting foray. I hope to do better the next time good fortune strikes, but at least I have the memories of this encounter no matter how poor the images are.