I always stop to appreciate Sierra Nevada wildflowers while hiking, but my love of specifically hunting for them comes and goes like the seasons. Some years I’m simply more active in my search for the small treasures. One of those active years was in 2015 when I was hiking a series of short trails near my home on the west side of South Lake Tahoe in order to gather trail data and photographs for a future project (which essentially became this website). That spring was preceded by a low snow winter and a few drought years so even though there was still snow higher in the mountains, by March I was hiking on dry trails at 7,500 feet.
On March 6, 2015, I hiked to Tahoe Mountain and found my first wildflower of the season. Or so I thought. It seemed very odd that I would find something blooming so early because it was, after all, barely the first week of March. Drought or not, that’s exceptionally early for wildflowers to be blooming at Lake Tahoe.
But there it was growing out of the sandy and rocky soil near the top of Tahoe Mountain. The flower petals were lemon yellow in color and its stem was covered with dark green and purple leaves. The curious thing about this “wildflower” was that, except for the change in color, the transition from the leaves on the stem to the petals on the flower was seamless. It looked like someone had just spray-painted the tops of this leafy plant yellow and called it a flower. I took some photos and went home to research the plant. No luck. I posted pictures on social media in hopes that one of my friends more savvy in the identification of Sierra Nevada wildflowers could help me out, but still no luck.
Ten days later I was hiking along Angora Ridge, which is a close neighbor to Tahoe Mountain, and I found more of those mystery flowers. A lot more. This time, however, the flowers didn’t appear to be in full bloom as they were still lime green in color. My assumption was that the whole plant started out as a uniform color of green and, as it matured, the contrast between stem (leaves) and flower (petals) would become more pronounced like the flower I found on Tahoe Mountain.
In spite of discovering this new evidence, neither I nor any of my friends could determine what it was that I had actually found. There were so many examples of the plant on Angora Ridge, yet I couldn’t find a single image of it in any reference book relevant to Sierra Nevada wildflowers.
Two months passed before curiosity finally got the best of me. On May 3rd I returned to Tahoe Mountain to see what became of the flower in question. To my surprise, nothing remained of its existence. Three days after that I went back to Angora Ridge in search of evidence of that mystery flower motherlode. This time, however, I found remnants of the unidentified flower. And I not only found remains of those mystery flowers, but I also found a new (to me) wildflower sprouting from one of the dying bunches. It was confusing to look at due to the jumbled mess of bloom and decay, but it was clear once I traced the stem from the head of the new flower down to its base that one was sprouting from the other. I took some photos and renewed my investigation.
What I ultimately discovered was both intriguing and creepy. Of the two varieties of flowers, only the second of them (the one that was sprouting from the other) was an actual Sierra Nevada wildflower. Its name is Holboell’s Rockcress or just Rock Cress and, not surprising, grows in dry rocky areas. The flower at the root of this mystery was not actually a flower at all, but rather a parasitic rust fungus called Puccinia monoica. That strain of rust fungus likes Arabis plants which is within the mustard family (Brassicacea), of which Holboell’s Rockcress is classified.
In early spring Puccinia monoica takes over a host plant, inhibiting it from procreating, and then manufactures yellow pseudoflowers in place of the plant’s true flowers. The fungus uses these fake flowers to attract bees and insects. But the pseudoflowers don’t just look like real flowers to the naked eye. They’re also ultraviolet and they emit a scent. Combined, all three features provide a compelling argument that attracts bees and insects. So instead of pollinating the host flowers (in this case the Holboell’s Rockcress), the bees and insects are duped into spreading the rust fungus.
At some point during my recollection of this experience (and subsequent note taking sessions for this blog), I happened to sit in on an episode of the older television series Stargate SG-1. My roommate had been revisiting the series, and the episode I watched with her featured a courtroom trial in which two factions were arguing in defense of their respective comrades’ right to life. The reason this episode caught my attention was because the two entities at the center of this case were inhabiting the same body. The host person had been taken over by a parasitic entity known as the Goa’uld (pronounced as it’s written). The Goa’uld are a fictional race of worm-like creatures that fix themselves to a host’s brain and spinal cord and then take control of the host. One big reason they invade other beings is because their worm-like bodies are bound to water. By taking over a host body they are able to travel beyond their natural habitat. Interestingly, the host does not actually die for if it did the parasite would have to find a new host. So in the case of the trial, the Goa’uld’s position was that the host was still actually alive and both were simply sharing the same body. However, the opposition, which were the good guys of the show, argued (and rightfully so) that just because the host was alive did not mean that he was living, for the host no longer had free will and was essentially a prisoner trapped in his own body.
Clearly, drawing a parallel between a parasitic rust fungus attacking Sierra Nevada wildflowers and a fictional race of alien parasites that take over other forms of life is a stretch. However, I am an artist and have always been fascinated by art that imitates life and vice versa. I’ve also always been driven by a need to make connections between seemingly unrelated things or concepts. So even though many people site passion as the big motivator behind leading a fulfilling life, I would argue that passion simply stems from curiosity and that curiosity is the true source of fulfillment. Curiosity returns us to a “beginner’s mind” and causes us to ask “why, what, when, where, and who?”
So get outside and do your thing, but be sure to stop every once in a while to appreciate what the world around you has to offer. You may just discover a mystery that leads you down a new path.