Field Trip to Black Canyon

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Between 2-4 October 2015, students enrolled in Plant Systematics (EBIO 4520/5520) traveled to Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park for a botany camping trip. Participatory were: Reese Beeler, Ryan Byrne, Keric Lamb, Mandy Malone, Kelsey McCoy, Matt Schreiber, and Sydney Sharek along with Erin Tripp (course instructor) and Matt Sharples (teaching assistant). A botany fieldtrip anywhere in October in Colorado is risky, given we hit the end of the growing season a month ago. We needed a site that was sheltered from early frosts and cold weather, and speculated that the depths of a deep canyon might provide such refuge for a few lingering plants in flower or fruit.

We were right! On Friday afternoon, we punched it down to Black Canyon of the Gunnison, arriving late but not too late for homemade tostadas. We stayed at the North Rim Campground, which is a very small, funky, climbers’ favorite. The Black Canyon is without doubt one of the most dramatic landscapes in Colorado and indeed much of the west. It derives its name from the darkness created by the sheer walls, narrow width, and tremendous depth, which limit sunlight illumination of some portions of the canyon bottom to less than 30 minutes on any given day. Over the last 2 million years of Earth’s history, the canyon was carved out by the massive and in some parts very remote Gunnison River. Other canyons of the West are longer, and some are deeper, but none combine the length, depth, and sheerness of Black Canyon.

We awoke Saturday morning to start our long descent down quite the extreme slope – only 1.75 miles in length but 2,000 ft. vertical descent – a Class 3 scramble affectionately known as the “S.O.B route”. This is one of the only routes in the entire area that can be used to reach the bottom of the canyon without advanced, technical climbing. Conveniently, it leaves directly from the campground. We took our time descending, learning the dominant plant community along the way: Artemesia tridentata (Sagebrush), Juniperus osteosperma (Utah Juniper), Quercus gambelii (Gambel Oak), Amelanchier alnifolia (serviceberry), Cercocarpus ledifolius (Mountain Mahogany), and Pinus edulis (Pinyon Pine – one of many sources of pine nuts, which are actually not nuts but rather seeds). The bottom of the canyon was lush and thrilling – we learned several additional species as a group before setting out on our own in various directions. Many of us took a welcomed dip into the Gunnison – a perfect 58˚F.

We reached camp around 5 pm. The weather was balmy – mid 60s and so delightful. We spent the next 2 hours sitting at the picnic table keying various plants we saw at the bottom of the gorge. Among them was Petrophytum caespitosum (Rock Spiraea), which grows “on precipitous and often inaccessible canyon walls” (in Dr. Bill Weber’s words) and Polanisia dodecandra (Clammyweed) – a curious member of the caper family (Capparaceae) and one that represents a new plant record for Montrose County! Dinner was a botanical medley (squash and zucchini [Cucurbitaceae], shallots & garlic [Alliaceae], carrots [Apiaceae], potatoes [Solanaceae]), lightly tossed with olive oil [Oleaceae], salt, black pepper [Piperaceae], and chipotle powder [Solanaceae again…sigh], wrapped in foil then cooked on hot embers in the fire for a perfect 25 minutes. We all had a solid night’s rest before heading home the next morning.

The journey home: complete with blazing aspens and a flat tire with no easy means for a fix.  But we managed with a tire plug and the compressor of a kind stranger. That’s life as a biologist: never a dull moment.

Oren Rabinowitz–Undergraduate Research

orenrabinowitz

[The below write-up is based on a manuscript in press: Rabinowitz, O. and E. Tripp. 2015. A note on the observable bark Colorado of Populus tremuloides. Western North American Naturalist]

The Mystery of Aspen Powder

I was born in Israel, raised in New Jersey, and graduated with a B.A. in Ecology and Evolutionary Biology at The University of Colorado-Boulder in 2014. In the late fall of 2013, I joined the Tripp Lab to pursue a research question that Erin and I had discussed when I was a student in her Plant Systematics class. I wanted to find out what the powder found on aspen tree bark was made of. I asked Erin, who suggested the question was to her knowledge an unanswered one. I immediately signed up for independent study, and together we designed a study aimed at elucidating why aspen tree bark was powdery, and what the possible functions of this powder are.

We began our investigation with a literature review in November of 2013 followed immediately by fieldwork. Most people who have put their palms to an aspen tree are familiar with this curious powder in question. It tends to stick to your fingers and feels like a dusty chalk. Observations made by scientists who studied the aspen tree in the 1900’s recorded many helpful observations about the presence and color of the powder. Some non-scholarly sources claimed (and still claim) that the powder is actually a wild yeast that can be used for homestyle fermentation, or as a natural sunblocks. The most recently recorded observation was made by Univ. of Colorado Emeritus Professor (and Botany Curator) Dr. William Weber in his Colorado Flora: Eastern Slope, published in 2012. In that work, Dr. Weber speculated that the powder might be the developing thallus of a lichen.

Erin and I devised a working hypothesis that the white powder that characterizes aspen bark was actually aspen bark cells and that beta-carotene was the pigment responsible for the orange coloration of the powder. Beta-carotene is a carotenoid important to plant photosynthesis: not as an active contributor to the process but rather a molecule that helps transmit energy to chlorophyll while also playing a protective role for chlorophyll via its antioxidant properties. Starting in December of 2014, we collected samples from 11 aspen populations in Boulder County. Small squares of bark were cut, tagged, returned to the lab, then refrigerated. Once dry, thin, hand cross-sections of samples were prepared via thin hand and then photographed under magnification for further study. Subsamples were then pulverized and extracts of bark pigment were made with acetone. These extracts were spotted onto Thin Layer Chromatography (TLC) plates to determine presence or absence of photosynthetic pigments and accessory pigments present in the bark powder.

Microscopy and cross-section analyses revealed that the bark layer of the aspen tree is divided into three layers (from inner to outer): the cork cambium, a layer of orange cells, and finally a layer of white cells. The cork cambium is immediately subtended by green, photosynthetic chlorenchyma, and our TLC trials confirmed that this tissue layer contains all photosynthetic pigments you would normally find in the leaves (e.g., beta-carotene, pheophytin, chlorophyll-a, chlorophyll-b, and xanthophyll). In contrast, the outer two layers (orange, white) contained no photosynthetic compounds. As such, the orange pigmentation present in powdery aspen bark is not beta-carotene and remains unidentified. The orange layer is composed of heavily conglutinated cells that, as they age, become white and lose cohesion.

Our study demonstrated that aspen trees exhibit a unique method of bark cell shedding. The accumulated layer of bark cells on the surface of aspen trees do not stick together and do not form a solid mass of protective tissue. Rather, the aspen sheds mature bark cells in a powder so that sunlight can continue to penetrate the cork and cambium to reach the chlorenchyma-rich later. When powder is removed from aspen trees, the orange cambium is visible above the verdant chlorenchyma directly beneath. Younger cork cells tend to be orange in color whereas older cork cells are white and give aspens their ghostly appearance.

Many questions remain regarding the physiology of aspens and aspen bark. What is the orange pigment responsible for the orange hue? Is sunlight the primary factor that bleaches the orange bark cells? Does weathering and physical removal of white cork cells make aspen bark more prone to sun-scald? How do aspens prevent secondary infection by organisms without a thick bark layer? Oren thinks these questions can be answered by the next undergraduate to join the Tripp Lab!

Our manuscript is currently in press in the journal Western North American Naturalist. We thank Barbara Denmig-Adams and William Adams for early conversations on the research topic.

 

 

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Joseph Kleinkopf–Undergraduate Research

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I am a Boulder native and a recent graduate of CU-Boulder. In the Tripp Lab, I began my work on a project in collaboration with the COLO Herbarium (co-advised by Collections Manager Dina Clark) regarding variation in a perennial shrub known as Amorpha nana, or colloquially, Dwarf Indigo. This plant has been treated as a single species in western North America, but some populations of Dwarf Indigo in southeastern Colorado, specifically in the Purgatory River Watershed, an extensive area of remote canyons and tablelands that stretches south of the Arkansas River Valley to the New Mexico State Line, are rather different in appearance than populations of Dwarf Indigo elsewhere in the West. Could Purgatory populations represent a different species? In order to find out, I started comparing the DNA of Amorpha nana from the Purgatory to the DNA of Amorpha nana from other locations in the West.

My project eventually evolved to include the study of other species found statewide that are also different in appearance in the Purgatory.  Our working hypothesis is that, because this unique and remote area is at an intersection of vastly different ecological areas (north of the Chihuahuan Desert and east of the Rockies) and consists of miles of isolated canyons, the Purgatory Watershed might represent a region of neoendemism in western North America. Neoendemism refers to the recent evolution of new species that haven’t yet had time to disperse to different geographic areas—in other words, newly evolved species that are endemic (restricted to) a very small geographic area of Earth. Thus far, I have found evidence that Dwarf Indigo harbors a molecular signature of neoendemism in southeastern Colorado, with unique DNA mutations specific to plants of this area and not occurring in any other populations of this species. I am now branching out to test this hypothesis of neoendemism in other plants of this area including cacti and aquatic species.

This summer, I made a field trip to the Purgatory with Dina, Dr. Tripp, and graduate student Vanessa Diaz. Although field and lab work are very time consuming, I’ve enjoyed doing research in Dr. Tripp’s lab and with Dina and Dr. Tripp in the University of Colorado Herbarium because all results (perhaps even results that do not support the hypothesis) yield new insights into ecology and evolutionary biology, which I find to be very exciting. I hope that the work I am doing will inspire others to pursue research on the rich and unexpected diversity and rich evolutionary histories that can be found in southeastern Colorado!

 

Petalidium coccineum

Petalidium coccineum, I can still remember the first time your giant red flowers pulled our eyes from the highway and onto your gravelly shores. We saw you from quite the distance – all alone – but spectacular. Our first bird-pollinated Petalidium. Our lives will never be the same.

Wild collected, Namibia, Tripp & Dexter #843 (RSA-POM) [and on several other occasions]; Photos by Erin Tripp

Petalidium canescens

The ever impressive Petalidium canescens always turns up in the most inhospitable of environments. I’m surprised it hasn’t reached the top of a tepui yet (well, not really). Here it is germinating in sun-fired roadside clay, in an environment so dry that it hurts to breathe–I am not kidding. This is a species to respect.

Petalidium canescens is emblematic of Damaraland in east-central Namibia. Very nice farmers have welcomed us onto their property to learn more about the natural history of this species.

Salute!

Wild collected, Namibia, Tripp & Dexter #882 (RSA-POM); Photo by Erin Tripp

 

Petalidium bracteatum

Don’t be jealous just because evolution didn’t fare so well for you.

Petalidium bracteatum has it ALL figured out. On a bloody hot day while I was cruising along on the right (wrong) side of the 4×4 track, in the Kaokoveld, in a heat-induced stupor, Kyle and Lucinda simultaneously spotted this thing through their awesome Acanth spectacles. It was growing out of vertical cracks in cliffs very near to the Kunene River / Angola border. We have yet to encounter this remarkable species anywhere else. At this site, 100% of its fruits were severely predated by some specialist frugivore (damnit!). Seeing the species in the cellulose absolutely clears up any doubt that we may have ever had about its distinctiveness from Petalidium coccineum. Definitely different, although almost certainly related. Need ‘Next Generation’ sequence data, as it’s clear that Sanger Sequences aren’t going to cut it…

Wild collected, Namibia, Tripp et al. #4054 (RSA-POM); Photo by Erin Tripp

Petalidium angustitibum

Dear Petalidium bracteatum, canescens, coccineum, crispum, cymbiforme, englerianum, giessii, halimoides, and all of the others,

I have cheated on you. I always said that you were my favorite, but the unexpected happened in May 2014 – I fell in love with someone else. I have tried to do my best to explain why, below, though I do not expect you to ever forgive me….

Petalidium angustitibum has to be among the top three most intriguing species in the genus (right now, it’s my #1). Like so many other species in the genus, it is a restricted-endemic in the truest sense of the phrase. I was fairly convinced we wouldn’t find it. We traveled 80 something kilometers through the sand-filled Kwoarib River… no road to speak of… in attempt to find elusive and mostly historical populations of this species.

We found it. The corolla tubes of this species—the longest of any Petalidium—and the very elongate inflorescences (again, the longest of any Petalidium) make this species one of the most distinctive \within the genus. Other observations: 32% nectar at 13:30. In full flower, but almost entirely absent fruits. Fruits that we did find were almost entirely predated. Iain managed to recover one inflorescence with several viable fruits, so there is hope for continued study of this species in cultivation.

Regarding the low fruit set: I cannot claim to know the real story, but not a single floral visitor was seen throughout the course of the day. Is it possible that such pollinators are no longer with these plants are? And if P. angustitibum is not capable of selfing, well then, that’s the end of the road for this species (as an aside, we are rooting for you!). Whatever the explanation is, one thing is certain: the species is locally dominant in its native environment–indeed, it’s one of only a few species of flowering plants alive in this barren landscape–but it’s native environment includes a very, very small stretch of planet Earth.

After turning to the north, we drove on another 50 km or so, and made camp in a very special valley at the mouth of the Ugab mountains. Again: one of the nicest campsites of my adult life. I have photos to prove it….and lucky you, I’ll even share a snapshot of the beauty (see photo of four of us, above).

Wild collected, Klaassen et al. (awaiting data from Essie [WIND & COLO]); Photos by E. Tripp

Petalidium “lucinda”

Almost certainly undescribed. I tentatively gave it the moniker until otherwise proven wrong. Kyle and I wandered up to the base of the amazing bluffs (proximal to the Epupa landing strip) that we had camped at the night before. Lucinda, following a hardwired routine from her Arizona days, followed the wash some ways out. At whatever point, she encountered this plant (in sterile condition) that neither Kyle nor I saw. Nor have I seen anything like it in the field or in any herbarium… yet.

May 2016 update: GBS / RAD-seq phylogeny of Petalidium finally assembled! THIS thing comes out as sister to the massive clade that contains Petalidium variable, P. ohopohense, P. rossmanianum, and P. welwitschii. Might have been where that ultra-arid radiation, in the driest stretch of the Kaokoveld, all began….

Do not miss these amazing geological formations only 5 miles south of Epupa….Nor the Magellanic Clouds that go with it…

Wild collected, Namibia, Tripp, McDade, & Dexter #4060 (RSA-POM); Photos by Erin Tripp

 

Petalidium “koppie”

I do not know what to say about this species. We were calling it Petalidium ‘koppie’ (sp. nov.) for the longest time. But recent anatomical work (spearheaded by PhD student Palm Chumchim, Rancho Santa Ana Botanic Garden) leads me to think it might not be a Petalidium after all. You will note that we collected it more or less sterile (only with old bracts). I maintain my bewilderment until I see flowering or fruiting material.

I love the first photo – Lucinda looks absolutely as perplexed as I am about this plant. Yet at home and happy in that sweet desert wash… en route to the Baynes Mtns, extreme northern Namibia.

Wild collected, Namibia, Tripp, McDade, & Dexter #4064 (RSA-POM); Photo by Erin Tripp

Petalidium “magenta”

Mayyyyyyyyyybe a new species. One of several that Kyle, Lucinda, and I found during our January 2013 trip. Very clearly this thing bats for the P. variabile team. But: is she different from the former? Is it perfume from a dress that makes me so digress? There seems to be no other plants in the vicinity with which we think she would mingle.

Wild collected, Namibia, Tripp et al. #4075 (RSA-POM); Photo by Erin Tripp