We're now at the Anza-Borrego Desert Research Center, after visiting Death Valley National Park, the Granite Mountains & Mojave National Preserve, and Joshua Tree NP. We've been having a ton of fun in the field, and as the instructor, it's been great to see our students hard work in identifying the various organisms they've seen! They're learning a lot, (including the Latin names of plants!) and getting some great photos. We have some more time here this evening, then tomorrow, we leave CA for AZ and a very different desert!

Day 2 of our trip was absolutely amazing. We went to the Artist's Pallette which was so breathtakingly beautiful. Standing atop a peak looking out at the world around me I was overcome with a sense of awareness of my mortality and a greater appreciation for the beauty of nature. The colors streaking over the mountainside were gorgeous as if painted by God. It's easy to forget in our day-to-day lives that resources are limited. We live in houses in cities with supermarkets not more than a 5-minute car trip away, seemingly endless supplies of water and electricity. Our trash gets disposed of for us, somewhere we might never see. In our modern western lives, we forget to appreciate what we have and the importance of taking care of the earth. I feel like I have a newfound respect for what I am privileged to have and I will not be able to go back to being so carelessly wasteful.

On February 12th I walked into a classroom of people I didn’t know. Well, that’s a lie. I recognized one person, I’d had a class with him before but I couldn’t remember his name. We looked at each other and gestured with some uncomfortable finger guns; we knew we recognized each other but both felt bad having forgotten the other. These are the people I’d spend the next six weeks with. I sigh.

The kangaroo rat (Dipydomis) is a species of rat with powerful hind legs, rendering them the ability to hop and jump in a way that no rat should be able to attain. They sit like kangaroos, perched on their hind legs and tail with their front paws held up to their chest. I spend way too long talking about how much I love them and I deflate when Norm tells me, “ah well, you will definitely see their burrows but you probably won’t see them.” Im discouraged but he shrugs and tells me, “you just never know.”

On March 11th, I boarded a plane from Orlando to Las Vegas at 6am. I walked out of the plane into a new time zone with a sense of thrill. It is now March 17th and I can finally put my thoughts together into a journal post for the first time.

It’s taken me 6 days to feel like I was capable of writing a coherent blog post. This may come as a surprise because, apparently, I have quite a lot to say.

Rebecca and I are the first students to arrive and we are picked up from the airport around 9am where we board the van and promptly make our way towards the nearest Denny's, hashbrowns on the brain. With Norm and Cody, we explore the strip in Las Vegas, taking in the barrage of light and sound; we were appalled and impressed by the amount of money a person could make by standing on the corner holding a snake and charging people to touch it. I forget sometimes that other people don't go out of their way to hold snakes.

Our first true day in the desert was filled with wonder. All I could do was walk around, mouth nearly agape, taking in the drastically different landscape and stay continually amazed at the fact that I am receiving college credit for this adventure. We explored Death Valley, apparently the beginners version of desert biodiversity. As we drop lower and lower below sea level, my ears pop.

We see a few lizards and a black-tailed jackrabbit, proof that biodiversity is alive and well. I had rarely cared about plants before, but this was new scenery to take in. New plants, unfamiliar features coating the landscape. Suddenly, plants mattered a lot, and wow I cared. With a lifelong love of succulents and cacti, I felt I was finally experiencing the flora of my dreams.

On this first day, we take glorious pictures, see a few lizards, and climb some hills/mountains of the Artist’s Palette. Of course we had spent weeks together in class, but it was finally sinking in that we had, at the bare minimum, 25 hours ahead of ourselves of pure driving time. Spread out over ten days, of course, but still daunting. We end the night at a salt flat. The whole ground, covered in salt; an extravagant desert scene and all I can think of is Star Wars. I believe Norm when he tells me it’s salt, but I lick it anyway just to make sure.

It was salt.

As we head into the town of Pahrump, a memory that already feels light years away, I scream. There. It. Is. A dream, actualized. A kangaroo rat bounces across the highway as Norm screeches to a halt, at least half in reaction to my guttural yell. In an unexpected surprise (perhaps a tad redundant), I saw the animal I was most excited about seeing on the first night. I don’t tend to be a superstitious person, but I feel like this trip is going to be glorious.

I identify the kangaroo rat later as the Desert Kangaroo rat, my first observation of this journey.

I buy a pack of caffeine gum.

So far on our trip, we have seen a lot of amazing organisms along with some beautiful scenery. We started out strong at Death Valley, where we explored the colorful mountains of Artists Palette and the cool geometric grounds of Badwater Basin. It was a nice warm-up for what’s to come for the rest of the trip. The mountain we climbed at Artists Palette wasn’t too difficult but the view was absolutely astounding. There were various colors on the rocks ranging from pastel blue to pink. The best part was that every color was the result of natural minerals like iron and titanium. Next, we drove down to Badwater Basin where we strolled across the salt beds. The salt beds are made from salts and sediments that were carried down by water from the surrounding mountains. When the water evaporates, the salt and minerals that were carried down are left behind. The cool polygon shapes formed by the salt are due to the cracks left behind when the water evaporated. The flats didn’t look that far away because of how flat the ground was, but it was at least a mile of walking before getting to the unique salt beds. Luckily we arrived just in time to see the sunset, which glimmered across the surrounding mountains.
On Day 3 of our trip, we visited the Kelso Dunes. After days of climbing over tough rocks, I thought climbing over sand was going to be a breeze. Little did I know, it was the most excruciating climb I have experienced thus far. The sand that was getting in my shoes were weighing me down, and when I decided to take my shoes off, the force of the ground on the arch of my foot was very uncomfortable. Finally, after what felt like days of walking, we got to the bottom of the dunes. The other hikers recommended going straight up and “ripping it off like a Band-Aid I decided to take their advice and slowly crawled up the dunes on all fours. While climbing the dunes, I noticed that there was not a lot of life at the higher elevations. At the base of the dunes, there was a lot of dune grass and occasionally some beetles. As we climbed higher and higher, the grass started to disappear. Soon, there were no visible signs of life, especially at the very top.
The view at the peak was amazing, but the run down was exhilarating. It took me about a minute to run down the side that I had spent well over 30 minutes climbing. The walk back wasn’t too bad either, but the exercise we did that day equals the amount that I usually do in a year. Overall, the experience was amazing, but the feeling of accomplishment is even better.

When we ventured into Coyote Valley in Anza Borrego State Park it was frigid and the wind cut through my three layers of jackets like a knife. I’m pretty sure we were all shivering in our hiking boots, but we walked on, looking for flora and fauna to make some observations in this new place.

I had been striking out on lizards (they are just too quick for me to snap a picture sometimes) and there barely are ever any mammals in sight. But there was something different about this place that I did notice: the flowers. At first I saw a couple here and there but as I walked on and wandered off path, I noticed the entire canyon was in bloom and it was a truly magnificent sight to see. I had always been excited by flowers and their ability to bloom in the harshest of places. As I continued to photograph the flowers, though, I kept hearing faint tweets fading in and out in all directions. There were hummingbirds galore. They loved the wildflowers just as much as I had and were zipping through the brush faster than I could keep up.
I followed the stream that supplied the water to these flowering plants that gave excitement to the hummingbirds and found myself in a small oasis, covered by looming trees and half hidden by the mountainside. The hummingbirds continued to buzz and I continued to try and capture them with my camera, but I was almost always too slow. Just as I was getting frustrated, striking out on nearly every animal I tried to photograph, the urge I always have to climb came over me, just to get away, and I scaled the side of the mountain that overlooked the small oasis.

When I made it up a fair distance, I laid back on a big boulder and soaked up the warm sun and cool breeze. After scanning the landscape, I again noticed the hummingbirds below, swiftly bobbing in and out of the trees surrounding the stream. Suddenly my frustration with them all fell apart, and I watched them for a good while. I realized just how many there actually were, probably four or five at least, in this little oasis. They were almost dancing through the air, stopping only briefly at a flower but never ceasing to rapidly beat their wings faster than the eye can keep up with.

I notice that often times I can be like a hummingbird, always going and going, barely stopping to take a breath. But climbing that mountainside made me take a step back and look at the bigger picture. I was able to see a whole community of hummingbirds and the trees they were feeding from, the stream that was giving all of this life, and the desert and mountains beyond. It all made me feel so small and insignificant, but in a good way that made me put things into perspective. And I think that’s why I like to climb so much.

To say I’ve never experienced anything like the American Southwest is a gross understatement. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined the breathtaking views or—more importantly—the incredible biodiversity. When we departed from Las Vegas on day one, we were able to get a little taste of the landscape as we travelled to Death Valley. We stopped at multiple roadside tourist viewpoints where we gazed across miles and miles of rolling mountainsides, and we were even able to venture out to examine the hills up close. After stopping at Artist’s Palate and Badwater Basin, Dr. Douglas professed that the destinations to come were even more incredible. I didn’t believe him at first, but I was very quickly proven wrong.

On day 2 we travelled further into California until we reached the Granite Mountains. After multiple wrong turns, we finally arrived at the biological field station where we were to reside for the next two days. We were literally in the middle of nowhere, tucked at the base of 200-300ft mountains made of pure granite stone, with no electricity and only a couple outhouses. Once we’d settled into the field station, we ascended into the mountains on foot. We took off climbing in groups of two, three, four, all aiming to reach the summit of the granite mountains. As I climbed, I was absolutely astounded by the amount of plant and animal life that were thriving among the boulders. In a place with so little soil and rainfall, I had automatically assumed the mountain to be an uninhabitable habitat. Hopping from boulder to boulder, I kept finding different specimens of beaver tail, cholla, barrel cacti, yucca, agave, lichens, and more. I didn’t see any animals first hand while climbing, but the scat littering the mountainside proved they were there.

Day 3 sent us to Granite Cove and Kelso Dunes. Exploring Granite Cove allowed us to see even more plant diversity as well as capture some great pictures of birds and lizards. It was amazing realizing that people have actually called a place like that home for centuries, what with no running water or soils fertile enough for crops. Before taking this class, I imagined most deserts looked a lot like Kelso Dunes: miles and miles of sand with few life forms. The long walk out to the highest dune, however, provided a clear image of biodiversity: patches of dry grasses and shrubs, invertebrate and reptile tracks, and mammal scat. Scaling the near-vertical face of dune was by far one of the most physically challenging situations I’ve ever faced, but the view from the top made it all worth while. We could see for miles in all directions, observing a continuation of dunes, scrublands, and towering mountains far in the distance. I’ve never experienced anything like this in Florida, where the farthest I can see is to the next stoplight.

As the days pass, I grow more and more in awe of the amazing desert landscapes. By day 4 we’d driven through and explored Amboy Crater, Joshua Tree National Park, and Cottonwood Spring. We spent an hour or so lizard hunting among the lava rocks at the base of Amboy Crater. The lizards were so adapted to their environment among the black rocks that their skin had evolved to a dark charcoal grey color. They had beautiful blue markings that were visible for a short time before the lizard darted back in between the rocks. Joshua Tree lived up to its name and contained an ungodly amount of—you guessed it—Joshua Trees. We were able to explore even more plants among the boulders, discovering at least 3 species of Eriogonum growing fairly close together. Again, it seemed so impossible that plants could grow on top of these hard rocks when it seemed that so few nutrients would be available to them. I was to happy to finally see a real-life jojoba plant after years of using jojoba oil-infused shampoos and soaps. Cottonwood Spring provided another fun mountain climbing adventure as each student aimed to climb higher than the last. We were able to spot a pair of cottontail rabbits near a grove of towering palms. The sunset was gorgeous, inviting a variety of birds to come out and soar above the boulders. Our next stop was Anza-Borrego.

After a restful night (and a much-needed shower) at Anza-Borrego Desert Research Center, we explored Coyote and Palm Canyons on our 5th day. The plants of Coyote Canyon had just recently begun flowering and fruiting, so the edges of washes were littered with splashes of yellows, purples, and pinks. I thought the beaver tail and barrel cacti had the most beautiful flowers, with large pink and yellow petals respectively. This was the first time I’d seen wild cacti in bloom, and I was definitely not disappointed. We were able to see and hear a variety of birds as we made our way up a small stream. One of the most distinctive bird calls was that of a Costa’s Hummingbird, whose shrill zing! sounded almost electronic. Phainopeplas were also abundant, easy to spot by the white feathers on their wings. The small stream attracted a variety of insects, and even a couple of frogs. The guide we were with told us the frogs were relative to the native green tree frogs of Florida. After lunch we ventured out to Palm Canyon where we took a 3 mile round hike up to a large grove of towering palms. We spotted a pair of big-horned sheep at the very top of hillside: a father and a lamb. As we travelled back down the mountain, we took an unfortunate wrong turn and found an incredibly massive pile of human scat. Yes. Human. I guess when you’ve gotta go, you’ve gotta go. At least it seemed the culprit would’ve been well hidden off the correct trail.

Day 6 was pretty much just traveling. We departed California for Gila Bend, Arizona, stopping for restroom and a lunch break along the way. I may have screamed a little when I saw my first saguaro on the side of the highway. The Mexican restaurants in California were pretty impressive, but Dr. Douglas insists that the carne asada from Arizona blows them out of the water. We will see...

After completely exhausting ourselves at Death Valley for a day, we headed over to an isolated Granite Mountain and spent two spectacular nights there. Throughout our stay, we were completely surrounded by mountains, unique flora, and a lack of showers--it was essentially the antithesis of a typical Florida day where I would spend most of my time looking down at a screen while being surrounded by cement walls.

When we weren't sleeping, we were either observing, hiking, or climbing. I observed many plants, ranging from the single-leaf pine (Pinus monophylla), which happens to be the world's only single leaf pine species, to stone lotuses, which blossom beautiful little flowers while enduring incredibly xeric conditions. I trudged up a mountain for well over an hour with Tori, Rebeca, and Brandon, and somehow mounted a 600 foot sand dune. Both climbs left me out of breath at the top, but the views were unlike anything I have every seen. I felt so accomplished and so at peace with the miles of observable land surrounding me.

The experiences of the past few days have all culminated into such an important, life-changing event--an event that has brought me closer to nature, and to so many great people.

The fifth day of our trip started out like any other day. We woke up, had breakfast, and drove to the park where we hiked and explored for most of the day. At Anza-Borrego, I was taking pictures of the beautiful flowers, like usual, when I realized that there were a lot of beetles in most of the beavertail cacti flowers. Excitedly, I observed the insects on Inaturalist and continued on to other flowers. I was surprised to see that the next beavertail cactus flower also had a bunch of the same beetles. Curious, I went to all the cacti that were in bloom and peeked into the flowers. Most of the flowers had the red and yellow beetles inside.
It turns out that the beetles are called ornate checkered beetles. Unlike most insects inside flowers, they are not pollinators. Instead, they feed on the flower and the pollen. They start their life cycle in a cactus flower. The larvae hatch at the base of the flower and feed on the flower so they can grow. Eventually, they will leave the flower when they are ready to pupate. When they are fully mature, they climb back into the flower to feed and lay their eggs and restart the cycle.
This relationship was really interesting to research. Along the way, I also observed several dead bees in the flowers. I tried researching why that is, but found little information on it. Interestingly, ornate checkered beetles are also predaceous and will feed on bee larvae if they live near a hive. Maybe there is a correlation there?

The trip just ended, and I am writing this post from my comfortable, air condition bedroom. The last half of the trip was just as exciting as the first half. Some of the highlights were scorpion hunting and the Grand Canyon.
On day 6, we arrived at our hotel pretty early and decided to make good use of our extra time by going scorpion hunting. We had gone scorpion hunting previously at Anza-Borrego, but had no luck. We drove to the Sonoran Desert National Monument and started shining our black lights at around sunset. But, it was only after the sky became dark when we finally started to see the scorpions. At first, we were expecting the scorpions to only illuminate a little, so we were stopping at every little thing that looked like it was glowing. But, after finding the first scorpion, we realized that it lit up like a light bulb and it was very hard to miss. We ended up finding around 6 or 7 scorpions. Most of them were the desert hairy scorpions, but we did find a banded scorpion, which was really cool!
On the last day, we visited the Grand Canyon, and it was pretty grand. The layers of rocks were beautiful and we saw the biggest animals on the trip: elks. They were very tame and we were able to walk very close to them to get some awesome photos. But, my favorite part was lying on a rock at the edge of the cliff. It was a chilly day, so having the sun on my face while overlooking the breathtaking canyon was the epitome of “the good life”. Instead of “What is the Good Life” class, the university should make Desert Biodiversity mandatory so everyone can experience “the good life” instead of learning about it.