A very wet day trip into northeast Georgia to photograph the rare Isotria medeoloides (Small Whorled Pogonia orchid) — 2013-05-18

This is the time of year to see the rare, Isotria medeoloides or Small Whorled Pogonia orchid, only if you know where to find them. I had previously set up a trip so that Alan Cressler could come to South Carolina to photograph a fresh specimen of Aplectrum hyemale or Putty-root orchid, but he called me the night before and asked if I’d rather come to Georgia to see Isotria medeoloides, instead. That is one very rare orchid, (it’s actually on the list of federally endangered species), so of course I said “Yes!”. Actually I might have screamed that into the phone, but regardless, I packed my photography gear in expectation of a wonderful field trip to northeast Georgia:

When I woke up early the next morning, it was pouring rain! I took a shower and ate breakfast, and it was still pouring rain! I packed the truck and headed west toward Georgia in the pouring rain. When I hit the Georgia border, it stopped raining — well it was still misting a bit, but I can take that any day. Actually, an overcast sky is great for photography since the sunlight is diffused and does not cast harsh shadows.

We had decided to meet at a convenience store near the first site. I drove up and found that Alan and Steve had been waiting only a few minutes. We decided that it would be wise to go in one vehicle, so I removed my photographic gear from the truck and packed it all in to Alan’s vehicle, and off we went.

We soon came to the first site for these rare orchids. Last year, on June 3, we visited this same site and found two plants — one that had not produced a flower, and one that had produced a flower but had already formed a seed capsule:

We hoped that by being a couple of weeks earlier than our previous visit, we would find at least one of the plants in flower. Well, we found them “all” in flower — uh… both of them:

These plants were quite a bit smaller than the ones I had seen in North Carolina a few years ago, but who am I to complain about something so trivial as size? These were perfect in every way, even if they had water dripping off of the leaves.

While Alan and I were busy doing our photography thing, Steve wandered around the immediate area and reported that he was seeing the leaves of four additional orchid species: Goodyera pubescens Rattlesnake Plantain orchid, Galearis spectabilis Showy Orchis, Cypripedium parviflorum var. pubescens Large Yellow Lady’s-slipper orchid, and Liparis liliifolia Lily-leaf Twayblade orchid, as well as Lilium superbum Turk’s-cap lily!!! What a place!

After we packed our gear into Alan’s car. We headed off down a winding, mountain road which provided us with spectacular scenery. The trees were all leafed out and were still that special, verdant green that you see every spring. Since we were at some altitude, occasionally we would see the clouds drift into the trees creating a foggy scene.

We had directions to an area where Platanthera grandiflora or Large Purple Fringed orchid had been found. We had general directions to the spot, but when we got there, we could find none of the plants which should already be up and perhaps showing an indication of flower buds. We spent most of an hour at this spot looking for those orchid plants, but never did find them. Today, I discovered that we may have looked in the wrong area, but that often happens when you are operating off of general directions and not solid, GPS coordinates. What we did find at that site, however, was quite nice. The first species was a new one for me — Cardamine flagellifera var. flagellifera or Blue Ridge bittercress:

The second species was also a new one for me — Thalictrum clavatum or Mountain meadow-rue:

The third species was one that I had seen before, but it had been many years ago — Clintonia umbellulata, Clinton’s lily or Speckled wood lily:

We had quite a way yet to drive, so we packed our gear and headed up that winding mountain road. Soon, we began to see some red flowers all along the roadside. Alan had mentioned that he remembered seeing Aquilegia canadensis or Red Columbine in the same area last year. What he didn’t mention was the huge numbers of plants that were speeding by us, on both sides of the road. After about a mile of this fantastic sight, I asked Alan to pull over so that I might try to photograph some of them. Turns out, that what I needed was some way to break the wind stabilize the plants so that they would not be affected by the steady breezes. But that was not going to happen, so I had to be satisfied with some almost-in-focus images:

After driving another half hour or so, we pulled off at a little grassy area. Having retrieved our gear, we headed off down an old, overgrown forest service road that had been converted to a hiking trail. Well, it had not been convincingly converted, since it felt like we were walking through the woods. The trees and bushes had grown up directly in the path so that we were soon dripping wet from the rain that had gathered on the leaves and branches of the plants.

Another half hour later, Alan said, “Here we are!”. I found out soon enough that this meant we had reached the place where we left the “trail” and headed into the woods. Actually, there were fewer obstructions in this open woods that were on the “trail”. Steve had not been to this site for a couple of years, so he was not exactly certain where our second location of Istotria medeoloides plants were, but we were determined to find them.

We scoured the woods, north and south, east and west, and still no sign of the plants. I followed Steve in the direction of where he thought the plants were, and soon we were on another old roadbed. Up the roadbed a little bit and soon we saw a large population of a rare fern — Lygodium palmatum or American climbing fern. At first glance, it looks like a sprawling vine with little green leaves, reaching for the sky:

Upon closer inspection, the leaves at the base of the plant look like miniature versions of the leaves of a Maple tree:

There is an invasive cousin of this species that was introduced as an ornamental plant, but it has gotten out of control in many areas, Florida for example, and is on the list to be eradicaed when ever it is found. It is called Japanese climbing fern.

Soon, we hear Alan “hoot” several times. This is a good way to communicate in the woods, since language usually doesn’t carry very far. I hooted back, and soon I was able to find his location. He had found a spot that both Steve and I had wandered over, but ignored since it was pretty much covered by Diphasiastrum digitatum or Ground Cedar. Both of us figured that the diminutive Isotria medeoloides orchids just would not be found within such thick, vegetative competition. Alas, we were wrong. But in this case, it was fine to be wrong.

There were four plants in full bloom, and later we were able to find several more juvenile, non-blooming plants. The blooming plants were in great shape, and apparently in peak bloom:

This is a great find! Although there were only a few Isotria medeoloides plants at each site, we felt very happy to have seen them, and what we saw was in perfect shape. This rare species does not produce large populations, at least in the Southern Appalachian Mountains. Here is a quote from the National Center for Plant Conservation:

Often cited as “the rarest orchid east of the Mississippi,” this orchid is critically imperiled in 14 (78%) of the 18 states and provinces in which it still occurs; it is thought to be historical or extirpated in 5 states. Nowhere is it considered secure or common. The primary threat to its existence is destruction of its woodland habitat for development or forestry. The majority of its populations typically number fewer than 25 plants, and are thus vulnerable to local extinction. New searches for the plant have turned up new locations in the past decade, however, and ongoing management experiments are revealing much about its biology and the best methods for its conservation.

This brings the end to another great day botanizing with good friends, regardless of the weather. I’m more than pleased to be able to enjoy nature and the treasures found in its native plants. Our area of the Southeast, in the Southern Appalachian Mountains, is one of the richest, most biodiverse, and yet sensitive areas in the country. We owe to ourselves and to future generations the protection of this fragile gift…

— Jim