Each day, we had a lot of ground to cover. The field crew was a third of the size it was planned to be due to COVID-19, and there wasn’t a lot of time to relax, discuss the biological history of our destinations, or even relax and chat about philosophy or our personal lives. Many of the sites had been heavily disturbed by cattle and people on all-terrain vehicles, highlighting the importance of engaging stakeholders to reduce disturbance to these habitats. Working around these obstacles, we’d record the size, location, and number of fruits from each milkvetch plant in a quadrat. Combined with the data taken by interns over the past 10 years, we’ll be able to see how Mulford’s milkvetch responds to the climate variables, and be able to make recommendations to the BLM to help it persist under the mounting pressures of climate change.
While the locations we visited shared similarities, the landscapes they provided were very distinct, and it’s difficult to convey how significant it felt to look out at them. It was like stepping out of a spaceship, especially after all the time spent confined in our homes. And it was easy to lose ourselves in the massive hills, scattered sagebrush, and open desert crossing beyond the horizon.
Eventually we finished our field work, and returned home to Corvallis. After reflecting on our time there, I find myself imagining what those places look like now; unchanged by our presence. Colder in the night now, with a cool breeze passing through, and likely, also a cow.
We are grateful to our funders, Vale district BLM and the Interagency Special Status/Sensitive Species Program, for helping us make this research happen.
