Showing posts with label Red Trillium. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Red Trillium. Show all posts

Thursday, April 24, 2014

Sweet Pinesap in the Red River Gorge

I'm quite fortunate to have witnessed and experienced as many different places as I have in my relatively short amount of time on this planet but there's always some that fall through the cracks.  The Red River Gorge in east-central Kentucky has always been one of those aforementioned missed opportunities and as such was someplace I wanted to make sure to mark off my list this year.  So this past weekend, myself and friends Daniel Boone and Joe Bens rose with the sun for an early morning rendezvous and drive down to the gorge.  Having never been myself, it was a pleasure to have the knowledge of Dan and Joe at my disposal who knew the botanical hot spots and "can't misses".

View across the wide chasm of the Red River Gorge in east-central Kentucky

A large portion of the gorge is located within Daniel Boone National Forest and a designed National Natural Landmark as well as listed on the National Register of Historic Places.  It's famed geologic formations have developed over millions of years from erosion and wear from the forces of wind, water, and ice.  This long exposure to the elements has left remarkable sandstone cliffs, natural bridges, waterfalls, and rock shelters scattered throughout the region, which in turn has seen it become one of the world's premiere rock climbing destinations. Due to the uniqueness of the region's rugged and wild landscape, a wide variety of habitats and environments occur and are filled with a diverse amount of flora and fauna.

Serviceberry (Amelanchier arborea) blooming along a sandstone cliff

Upon our arrival we decided to make for a specific part of the gorge that was known to harbor a globally rare plant that was a highly anticipated part of the day's itinerary and a species I had long wanted to make acquaintances with.  Unfortunately, we found the trailhead surrounded by half a dozen or so U.S. forestry service vehicles and would come to find out a nearby wildfire had closed the trail indefinitely.  The fire was a fair ways off and hardly a threat to our current location but the folks in charge weren't about to let us take a step down that path.  With our hopes dashed a bit, Dan, Joe, and I headed off for another nearby trail to see if our luck would change.

The plant we had our eye's set on finding was the rare sweet pinesap or pygmy pipes (Monotropsis odorata), a myco-heterotrophic species that depends entirely on a symbiotic relationship with subterranean mycorrhiza fungi it parasitizes for nourishment.  Making the task even harder than not knowing where to look was the fact sweet pinesap is more or less neutrally colored and blends in seamlessly with the detritus on the ground.  Going on Dan's previous experience with the plant that Virginia pines in particular seem to coincide with occurrence of the plant, we combed the understory of the scrubby oak/pine forest situated atop a sandstone ridge with some spectacular accompanying views.

Large clump of sweet pinesap (Monotropsis ordorata) under some Virginia pines

After a while of fruitless searching and the creep of doubt beginning to set in, I noticed what appeared to a be a weird clump of pine cones peaking out of the browned, fallen leaves and pine needles.  No sooner had I made eye contact with the suspicious clump of something when my nose detected a strong, spicy odor on the air.  Definitely not pine cones!  I gave a hearty holler to Dan and Joe that I had found precisely what we were looking for.

Sweet pinesap (Monotropsis odorata) close up

Sweet pinesap is accurately named, as this wildflower has quite possibly, nay definitely the most intoxicating and enchanting aroma my olfactories have ever had the gratification of smelling.  It was quite reminiscent of cloves with a slightly sweeter twist that just made your nose swoon.  All three of us took turns lying on our stomachs, noses hovering only millimeters from the mauve petals, savoring every inhalation.  I think it's safe to assume that if you could get a high off huffing this plant, we would know!

Clump of sweet pinesap (Monotropsis odorata)

Pygmy pipes (as they are also known to go by) hail from the subfamily Monotropoideae within the expansive heath family (Ericaceae).  At first glance it doesn't look like something that would be related to blueberries and rhododendrons but upon inspecting their flower's inner workings and arrangment the evidence becomes more clear. The plant seems to want to hide its elegance and good looks behind the papery brown sepals and bracts that sheathe the majestic purple petals and stems.  Try as it might, its allure isn't lost on my eyes.

Dan getting a better look and smell of the sweet pinesap

The Red River Gorge is close to the northern edge of the sweet pinesap's range and is just one of a handful of localities known for it in the state of Kentucky, where it's listed as a threatened species.  The amount of relief to have not traveled multiple hours only to leave empty handed was palpable among the three of us and allowed for the rest of the day's discoveries to be the cherries on top of our botanical sundae.

Joe and Dan walking through a hemlock and rhododendron filled sandstone gorge

After getting our fill of the aromatic pygmy pipes, we made our way down into the gorge itself to explore some of the sandstone hollows and what surprises awaited within.  Eastern hemlock, beech, red/white oaks, black birch, tuliptree, cucumber magnolia, and white pine rose far above our heads as tangles and thickets of rosebay rhododendron (Rhododendron maximum) and mountain laurel (Kalmia latifolia) intertwined underneath.  Apart from the rhododendron, it had a comparable feel to Ohio's Hocking Hills region.

Halberd-leaved Violet (Viola hastata)
Halberd-leaved Violet (Viola hastata)






















Scattered among the bevy of other wildflowers in the dappled sunlight was halberd-leaved violet (Viola hastata), a taxon I'd never seen before and had only admired from the computer screen.  It's not too often you come across a plant where one might argue its foliage is more attractive than its flower but I found the leaves especially charming.

Small grouping of red trillium (Trillium erectum)

The cool, sandy, acidic-soiled slopes were ensconced with hundreds upon hundreds of red trillium (Trillium erectum) in full bloom among the Carolina spring beauties (Claytonia caroliniana), mitrewort (Mitella diphylla), large-flowered trillium (T. grandiflorum), and plantain-leaved sedge (Carex plantaginea).

Long-stalked Sedge (Carex pedunculata)
Plagiomnium ciliare moss with capsules






















It can't always be all about the showier stuff while out on a hike.  Sometimes it's best to slow down and admire the more obscure and overlooked that never seem to get enough attention, like sedges and mosses for example.  In seepy areas on the hollow's steep slopes grew clumps of the handsome long-stalked sedge (Carex pedunculata) with its dark pistillate scales contrasted against lime green perigynia.  The fresh capsules of Plagiomnium ciliare from the Mniaceae family almost seem like something not of this world.

Deeper in a sandstone hollow with rhododendron covered cliff faces

Deeper into the hollow the steep slopes turned into precipitous sandstone rock walls and cliffs rimmed with rhododendron and clumps of unfurling wood ferns.  The returning migrants were in full song as the melodies of black-and-white warbler, pine warbler, black-throated green warbler, Louisiana waterthrush, ovenbird, and blue-headed vireo filled our ears.  We held out hope we might catch the tune of the rare Swainson's warbler but were perhaps a bit too early.

Round-leaved Violet (Viola rotundifolia)
Round-leaved Violet (Viola rotundifolia)






















Another yellow-colored violet I'd yet to see before was the round-leaved violet (Viola rotundifolia).  What initially started as clumps past flowering and already in fruit turned into plants still in full flower further back in the hollow. Both this and halberd-leaved violet occur in Ohio but are restricted to the northeastern quarter of the state.

Intricate exposed white pine roots
Native white pines growing along a cliff bluff






















An interesting aspect and association to the forest canopy's makeup was the scattered presence of old, large native white pines.  They took a page from the hemlocks and grew from the bluffs and rock faces throughout the gorge and measured two-three feet in diameter with untold heights.  The pair photographed above right are showing off the intricate design of their exposed roots spread out across the face of a sandstone boulder.

Dwarf Ginseng (Panax trifolius)

Later that the day found us exploring some stretches of forest near the gorge's floor along the Red River where ancient and impressively proportioned hemlocks, beech, and red oak abounded.  Dan's sharp eyes managed to turn up a nice population of delicate dwarf ginseng (Panax trifolius) in perfect flower.  Dwarf ginseng's blooms are much more conspicuous and aesthetic compared to their American ginseng (P. quinquefolius) kin's and lack the medicinal value of its larger brethren as well.

Along the Rock Garden trail in the gorge

Our last hike of the day was the famed Rock Garden trail near Natural Bridge.  Massive blocks of sandstone long broken from the sheer cliffs hundreds of feet above were strewn out across a lush landscape ensconced in spring ephemerals.  

Large-flowered trillium mixed with red trillium

Closer to the gorge's wall and its steeper slopes was one of the most impressive displays of large-flowered trillium and red trillium I've ever seen.  Literally thousands of plants were densely packed in the shade of the looming cliff, a perfect mixture of snow white and vibrant maroon.


The video attached above can only give the viewer a small glimpse into the true magnitude of the mixture of trillium but it's certainly better than nothing.  Like a video I uploaded in a previous post, the quality plummets upon expanding the window's size so for the best quality keep it small.  

Reznicek's Sedge (Carex reznicekii)
Black-edge Sedge (Carex nigromarginata)






















Despite the thousands of trillium blooming en masse, I managed to find myself looking at sedges again upon the discovery of one of my favorite species and another of its close relatives.  The black-edged sedge (C. nigromarginata) and recently split and described Reznicek's sedge (C. reznicekii) were both growing in the immediate vicinity of one another and allowed for a fun side-by-side comparison.

Looking up at the sandstone walls of the Red River Gorge

In the end I could have made this post twice as long with the amount of fun and interesting discoveries Dan, Joe, and I made last weekend but I think this will suffice it to say a great time was had by all.  I look forward to additional returns to the Red River Gorge's diversity and beauty at different times of the year.  It may have taken me a long time to finally experience its wonders within but it was unquestionably worth the wait.

Monday, April 22, 2013

A Secluded Trillium Paradise

For the past few years I have thoroughly enjoyed bringing to life the botanical and natural wonders of my great home state of Ohio.  It's been a great pleasure to share with you, the readers my travels and experiences that I am blessed and fortunate enough to have the time and desire to seek out.  Often times while out on these botanical excursions my mind is churning with ideas and excitement on the next potential topic and adventure I can paint on the computer monitors of those who aren't in the field with me.  It's a worthy responsibility and privilege to have this blog allow others to vicariously live through my camera lens.  I always look forward to the next story I can't wait to sit down and write out.  That being said, I think this one definitely fits that bill...

Looking into the sandstone ravine

This past weekend found you blogger cruising the back country roads of the Hocking Hills region in attempt to seek out some of spring's finer wildflower shows and displays.  The skies hung low and dark with the threat of rain constantly on the horizon which cast an aesthetic shadow on the landscape and created a stillness I found eerily comforting.  I eventually came to the spot a friend had suggested for marsh marigolds (Caltha palustris) in bloom in a spring seep along the road.  I pulled off to the side and exited my vehicle and began to walk back down the road when I noticed a small break in the forest and a deep ravine crawl back into the hills that my friend had also mentioned to keep an eye out for.  I could feel the cool, moist air flowing out of its sandstone walls and brush past my face, enticing me to explore its depths.


Narrow sandstone cliffs and overhangs of the small gorge

I shouldered my camera gear and slowly stepped into the mouth of the narrow ravine and was instantly immersed into a world of sandstone and the quiet trickle of water that had slowly but surely carved out this beautiful example of time and patience.  To one side of the gorge stood sheer cliffs and overhangs of weather-resistant bedrock and the other steep slopes covered in a dense mosaic of spring wildflowers.


Trillium-lined slopes
Lobed spleenwort (Asplenium pinnatifidum)



My steps were slow and carefully calculated as my boots glided over the soft sand and past rocks glazed over with a slimy film, waiting for their chance to send the ill-footed tumbling into the chilled water.  Growing out of the cracks and crevices of the sandstone were an assortment of ferns perfectly situated to the moist and cool conditions of the hollow.  One that caught my attention were the artful fronds of the lobed spleenwort (Asplenium pinnatifidum).  You'll have to excuse the blurred nature of its portrait above; the darkened skies and deep shadows of the ravine don't combine well with a handheld camera and long exposure.


Red and large-flowered trillium carpeting the lower slopes of the hollow

As I crept deeper into the narrowing hollow and rounded a sharp corner my eyes were suddenly met with one of the most incredible floral sights these traveled and experienced eyes had ever seen.  Hundreds, if not thousands of red trillium (Trillium erectum) and large-flowered trillium (T. grandiflorum) carpeted the precipitous slopes in a fashion nigh on unbelievable.  Each seemed to have been laboriously and tediously situated to perfectly exemplify every individual plant's handsomeness.


Sea of red trillium

My heart began to beat faster as my mind tried to comprehend what I was standing before.  It's ineffable to truly communicate the emotions that were coursing through my body at the sight of such prosperity and beauty.  To many it may sound inane to react in such a way at the mere sight of some flowers but for anyone who knows me understands it's so much more than that.  Each one of us spends much of our lives in the struggle to find and maintain a sense of unity and happiness that gives our minds peace.  Nature has always been that nucleus for myself and its moments like this that continue to strengthen my resolve and reinforce that the path I have chosen for myself is nothing short of exactly what I desire.


Quite the show of red and white
Trillium ensconced hillside


You know you've found a place worth its weight in gold when no photograph you take could ever do its true self any justice.  The camera lens can only just begin to scratch the surface of its beauty and splendor; this secluded trillium paradise can only begin to fulfill its prophecy in person and in all three dimensions.  It really is the epitome of a "you'd had to been there" type of situation.


Red trillium (Trillium erectum)

The most sensational part for your blogger was the dizzying quantities of red trillium present throughout the inner stretches of the sandstone hollow.  I'd seen them before here and there throughout the Hocking Hills region but oddly enough it's always been the white-colored variant (T. erectum var. album) that was the dominant form.  The rich crimson petals may dazzle the eyes but your nose is in for quite the opposite reaction. Red trillium are also commonly known as the stinking trillium for the foul, pungent odor emitted in an attempt to attract pollinating insects.


The sight of all the trillium never gets old

Many other predictable spring ephemerals graced the slopes as well but none could muster the power to overcome the majestic trillium that grew overhead.  It's hard to grasp just how long this site must have existed while remaining undisturbed by the destructive hand's of mankind.  Trillium can take up to a decade to reach flowering maturity and to have so many, so tightly packed together all down the several hundred yards this hollow stretched is quite the remarkable and time-consuming task.


Red trillium (Trillium erectum)
Red trillium (Trillium erectum)



A sudden breeze and cold nip to the air awoke me from my trillium-induced daze and caused me to realize the skies overhead were darkening further with swelled clouds that promised rain.  I certainly could have stayed in the mighty company of these marvelous wildflowers all day and never tired of their presence but precipitation and camera equipment do not mix very well.


Back end of the hollow

The entire drive back my mind continued to envision the scene I had just left and the astonishment I would never forget at the first sight of such an unbelievable accumulation of spring ephemeral wonder.  I hope to find time to return before the trillium are completely kaput for the season but also look forward to what other secrets this impressive site may hold later in the year.  I think it's safe to say I've found another spot to add to my growing list of great places that remain in our state.  Who knows what else lies out there, waiting to be found by the willing and curious.

Sunday, May 1, 2011

My Date with the Red Trillium

In my previous post on the wonderful Trillium genus I discussed the eight species native to Ohio.  I was able to present five of the eight species with photographs and a bit of I.D. characteristics and other nuggets of information but sadly had to leave one of my favorites off the list.  I'd only seen the Red Trillium (Trillium erectum) once before several years ago but didn't have the capacity to think much of it at the time nor take any photographs.  That has preyed on my thoughts the past couple years and it was beginning to bother me to the point where I absolutely needed to find this plant again.  As luck would have it my friend and fellow blogger Mike Whittemore over at Flora and Fauna of Appalachia stumbled across some while on a hike at Cantwell Cliffs in the Hocking Hills area.  This gave me the perfect opportunity and chance to finally add a sixth species of Trillium to my plant photograph catalog.  Now to go see the endangered Painted Trillium (T. undulatum) in Ashtabula County someday!  But for now let's focus on the prized beauty of Trillium erectum.

Trillium erectum
Trillium erectum var. album



















Scattered within the deep ravines and lower slopes, pockets of Red Trillium were still in peak bloom but a large majority seemed to be on their way out.  The ones that were still in prime condition sure put on a show though!  As seen from my prior post about Trillium's ability to vary in color/size/form, especially in the cases of T. flexipes, Red Trillium has two color forms to its flowers.  Above on the left is the normal T. erectum which can attest to how they get their common name of Red Trillium.  On the right is the white variation known as T. erectum var. album.

Trillium erectum var. album
Trillium erectum var. album



















As I made my way through several different ravines and gorges I quickly noticed that the white form was much, much more dominant than that of its customary red flowered plant.  Taking a closer look at the inner workings of the white flower showed just how much more the distinctive red ovary sticks out, as well as the slightly off-yellow anthers.  There had to have been hundreds of white flowered forms for every one red form which seemed to be playing 'Where's Waldo?".  Whenever I did find a red flower it was far past prime, drooping heavily and about ready to call it a year.  Fortunately I was able to find a few great examples to photograph with some patient searching and scanning of the hillsides.

Red and White forms for comparison
Trillium erectum var. album



















I've always been a collector of something, it's just my personality.  So when I dove headfirst into the enlightening but maddening world of botany I was quickly right at home.  Whether putting a check mark next to a species I see each and every year or one next to a 'life plant' that I've been chasing for years it's always a moment of personal success and gratitude to be have one more plant behind me and infinity more to go!

As I mentioned at the end of the earlier post, I attended Flora-Quest this weekend and it did not disappoint in the slightest!  I have many great wildflower photo's and stories to share in the coming days so be sure to check back often for some new postings!