Fungus Foray

This past weekend, I attended a Fungus Foray, organized by a local watershed council. There were several different foray groups to choose from, depending on previous mycology experience. I chose the beginner group, and we spent our time in and around a Toyon tree grove. We rambled through the woods in small groups, stopping often to examine various mushrooms, lichens, berries, moss, etc. It was my favorite type of outdoor day, because it felt like we were on a scavenger hunt for mushrooms, but we were also excited about anything else we found. 

The weather was perfect for mushroom foraging: chilly and damp, but not actively raining. After a few hours, we returned to the lecture hall and pooled our discoveries. I was amazed by the variety in the different mushrooms: the richness of the color scale and the textures (bloblike, slimy, gilled, or spiky) made me realize how utterly odd and otherworldly mushrooms are.

Although I took notes during the lectures that were held after the foray, one of the main things I learned was that identifying mushrooms is very involved and challenging. It will certainly be a long but fascinating process of learning to identify even the most common/basic species. 

I also enjoyed going into the darkroom to see phosphorescent mushrooms displayed under blacklight, and I learned that yarns and fibers can be dyed using mushrooms. 

Check out the photos below to see some of the "treasures" of the scavenger hunt!

These little mushrooms grew atop a mossy log

One of many finds near the Toyon grove. 

Purple Bolete mushroom (I think)

After spending a couple of hours at our respective foray sites, we all came back together to examine, admire, and attempt to identify our discoveries

These types of mushrooms were almost translucent! 

Insect galls on oak leaves (spined turban gall on Blue Oak leaf)

People of all levels of mycology applied their knowledge to try to identify our discoveries

Examining phosphorescent mushrooms under blacklight

Greenhouse Gas Monitoring in the Sierra Nevada

Signs of a healthy meadow (from caltrout.org)

Signs of an unhealthy meadow (from caltrout.org)

As an AmeriCorps member with American Rivers, I periodically get to go out in the field and do conservation-related work. One ongoing project that I am involved with is the greenhouse gas monitoring happening in several different meadows of the Tahoe National Forest. 

This project aims to measure greenhouse gas emissions and carbon sequestration in meadows that are in the middle of fairly intensive restoration projects. In order to measure the greenhouse gases, we set up plastic chambers directly into the meadow grasses. After getting our assorted data sheets and instruments organized, we each cycle through a 45-minute monitoring period with our assigned plots of the chambers. The chambers have soft sections of the lid, which we pierce with a syringe needle to draw up gases. The big-picture goal of this project is provide data to show that meadows are effective at sequestering carbon. This will help government agencies and organizations procure funding to further study and restore these areas.

This past month's monitoring posed a particular challenge: winter came to the Sierra, which was a welcome sight for Californians who have weathered the multi-year drought. We navigated icy mountain roads and managed to still conduct our field work while enjoying two sunny, snowy days. Check out the photos below to get an idea of how the monitoring works. 

Using large backpacks to carry in the chambers used for gas monitoring 

Sometimes birthdays fall on field work days, so we bring cake and candles and celebrate in the snow! 

We use a needle and syringe to collect gas from each chamber.  

Burning Murphy Meadow

As a newcomer to the Sierra Nevada, I am learning a lot about what types of restoration work and environmental issues are relevant here. Below is a blog post that I wrote for the American Rivers blog, which you can check out here. 

Fire and water: two elements necessary for life, remedies for one another, and contradictory. And in this case, important factors for improved downstream water quality.    

American Rivers staff recently helped organize and oversee a controlled burn at Murphy Meadow. After a few years of hard work to align schedules and obtain burn permits, “Burn Day” was upon us and, cameras in hand, we chattered excited as we drove to meet the contracted firefighters.

Murphy Meadow, high above the South Yuba River Canyon, is located in the Sierra Nevada foothills and hosts a variety of interesting creatures—I spotted a Sierra Alligator Lizard and a bobcat in the half-day I was there watching the burn. In addition to providing invaluable wildlife habitat, meadows sequester carbon and improve the water quality of rivers.

Performing prescribed burns of these areas can be traced back to the Native Americans of the region, who would systematically burn small patches of land in order to clear brush and understory growth. Ron Goode of the North Fork Mono tribe describes why cultural burning is one solution to the drought.

But with development of rural areas and changes in fire management policies, setting fire to any area has become more and more challenging.

Increased wildland fire suppression has inevitably led to meadows slowly being overtaken by conifers, turning into forested landscapes, rather than open spaces that offer unique habitat.  Better management of river headwaters sites can mean improved response to climate change and increased water supply reliability—both major benefits for drought-ridden California.

Clear of invasive species, pine needles, and dead, woody debris, the meadow is now a canvas of potential for new growth. In just several months, the meadow will show signs of new life: the beginning shoots of the many native grasses and wildflower seeds that we planted will add greenery and color to the charred mounds of deergrass.

Controlled burning is just one way American Rivers is working to restore meadows, which are often sites of river headwaters. Fire will bring life to this landscape again. And I can’t wait to see what it looks like.

Murphy Meadow before burning

Sierra Alligator Lizard

The burn started at the top of the meadow and progressed downslope

The burn toward the end of the first section. 

Deergrass mounds that have been burned 

Sprinkling native grass and wildflower needs on the newly burned meadow

Winter Ecology

On this beautifully sunny, mild winter day, I am reflecting on a very special experience I recently had. This past winter break, I signed up for a course entitled Winter Ecology. Bernd Heinrich, renowned biologist, book author, and UVM professor emeritus teaches the course on his property in Western Maine. For one week, ten UVM students (a mixture of undergraduates and graduates) lived in a log cabin without electricity or running water, and only heated by a wood stove, which we took turns getting up to stoke every couple of hours throughout the night. Every morning, we would rise as the sun rose over the mountains and illuminated the frost-covered windows. Bundled in many, many layers, we visited with one another quietly as water boiled for oatmeal. After breakfast, we rambled through the woods with Bernd with several hours, each day visiting different areas. Bernd teaches in the same way he learns--from the land itself, without plans, letting his daily discoveries dictate his curiosities. He has been learning from this one particular piece of land for many, many years, and it made me think quite a bit about what an honor it would be to know one place so well. Some of the highlights included using an axe to chop through the thick ice of Alder Brook and sampling benthic macroinvertebrates (this also turned into my individual research project for the class); finding nests from the Red-eyed Vireo, Chestnut-sided Warbler, Cedar Waxwing, and Robin; watching Bernd chop down trees and climb trees; making homemade bread in the wood stove; listening to a visiting scientist discuss her research on chickadees; and hiking to a lookout over Webb Lake to enjoy the sunset. I loved learning from and also teaching the graduate students, and I thought it was really valuable to have people from so many different academic backgrounds in the course. After cooking a hearty meal for dinner, we sat around the large table and pored through Bernd's collection of field guides and reference books. It was refreshing to be in a group of people so motivated to get outside and learn, even in the face of -24 degree temperatures!

Check out these photos, which help illustrate the nature and structure of the course, and also how much fun we had! 

Bernd climbing a tree to retrieve a red-eyed vireo nest.

The resident barred owl waits for a snack offering.

Sunrise through the frosty cabin windows.

View looking up into the center cavity of an old yellow birch.

Balsam Fir vs. Spruce

Exploring every sense of winter--in this case, the aroma of a spruce tree.

Red-eyed vireo nest painstakingly procured by Bernd.

Moving a chopped ice chunk out of the water in or

Sampling for benthic macroinvertebrates along Alder Brook.

Stoneflies, mayflies, and dragonfly nymphs galore!

A single bit axe, sled, water jug, and hearty souls--all tools of the trade for water runs. 

A sunny, frozen crystalline view of Alder Brook, looking downstream.