Elusive Orchids Along the Red Oak Ridge

Summer's end.  All the kids are back in school, and the beach at Moreau Lake State Park was absent of even their footprints yesterday morning when Sue and I met at the park to go searching for Autumn Coralroot (Corallorhiza odontorhiza), one of the last of our native orchids to bloom.

We had found this diminutive orchid last fall along the Red Oak Ridge trail in the park, so that's where we headed today, soon to be joined by our friend Laurie.  With a flower so inconspicuous, it's good to have extra eyes along to look for it.  Also, Laurie's a geologist, and she always has interesting information about the rocks that line this beautiful woodland trail that heads up into the mountains overlooking Moreau Lake.

Because I have such poor eyesight, I can't believe that I was the one who saw it first.  Sure enough, it was right in the same spot we found it last year, but it sure can hide in plain sight.   There it is, right in the center of that red circle.  Plain as day, right?   Then,  after spying that one, we found a few more close by.

Since there's no botanical record of this orchid growing in Saratoga County, we had hoped to collect a specimen in full bloom to send to the state herbarium.  But we couldn't figure out if these were in bud or had already gone by, so we didn't collect any plants.  It was only later that we learned that this particular coralroot often bears no open blooms, ever.    This may be as much flower as we were ever going to see.

Now that we had a search image in our minds, we continued to look for the leafless reddish stems hung with pale green pods, walking up and down the streambed where we found our first plants.  If there were others growing here, we couldn't find them.

It was only after we had given up searching that we found several other specimens, in locations quite some distance apart, and in every case, just a single plant.  Since the population seemed so sparse, we decided not to collect even one, although I did mark each location with a GPS device.  I hope someday our state herbaria will accept photographs and signed affidavits as proof of a plant's existence in a county, rather than insisting on actual specimens.  Especially in the case of native orchids, all of which are protected by law.

Even if we had not found our sought-after plant, we would have had a marvelous time exploring the heaps of limestone boulders  that are a prominent feature along the Red Oak Ridge trail.  And even if we had not had our geologist friend along to identify these rocks, we could have guessed their mineral content from the abundance of such lime-loving plants as this Walking Fern meandering across the moss.

Another indicator of rich soil was this Rattlesnake Fern scattered about the forest floor.

We found evidence, too, that porcupines were also fond of these boulders, when we spied this opening in the rocks that was littered with quills and piles of feces distinctive of porcupines.

If you clicked on the link to our last fall's hike along this same trail, you would be struck by the wonderful abundance and variety of fungi we found.  This year, following one of the hottest and driest summers on record, we found hardly any fungi at all.   This marvelous mass of white-edged ruffles was an exception.  At first, I did not recognize this dark brown fungus as Turkey Tail (Trametes versicolor),  but after searching the internet, I was astounded to see the incredible color variations this beautiful shelf fungus can exhibit.

Here was another of the really scarce fungi we found, and it looks like this hungry slug was very happy to have found it, as well.  I must confess, this is the first time I have ever noticed slug poop.  Sue saw it first and pointed it out to me, or I wouldn't have seen it.  Dedicated naturalists as we are, we are often delighted to find stuff that most folks would have no interest in.

Most folks, however, would be happy enough to notice these pretty wildflowers, Nodding Bur Marigold (Bidens cernua),  which were blooming along the sandy south shore of the lake, where we sat to eat our picnic lunch.  We were fascinated to also find miniature specimens of this same species growing in other areas of the beach, and wondered what would cause such a diminishment in size.

Peering closely to admire the Bur Marigold's blooms, I discovered this beetle, whose black-spotted yellow coloring provided quite effective camouflage while it sat on the flower.   A google search for black-spotted yellow beetles immediately informed me that this is a Spotted Cucumber Beetle (Diabrotica undecimpunctata), considered quite a pest by gardeners and farmers.  Its appetite for flowers is certainly evident in the tattered petals of this Bur Marigold bloom.

Searching for Autumn Coralroot

 It rained this morning, then again this afternoon and tonight.  We were lucky, Sue and I, that the rain stopped for the entire duration of our hike today on the Red Oak Ridge Trail at Moreau Lake State Park.  The lake was smooth as glass under a pearl-gray sky, and wisps of mist were rising from the mountains when we parked our cars by the shore and set off up the trail.  This time of year, this trail should instead be called the Golden Glow Trail, since its preponderance of Sugar Maples and Shagbark Hickory turn the most amazing yellow, making the woods appear sunlit on even the darkest days.

We would have gone on our hike today even if it had been raining, since our goal was to find Autumn Coralroot (Corallorhiza odontorhiza), a little orchid becoming increasingly rare in the northeast, before a hard freeze could destroy any evidence of its existence along this trail.  We had seen it growing here in September, although at the time we didn't have any idea what it was.  Then I saw a photo of it on a Facebook post by A.L. Gibson (who also writes a wonderful nature blog called "The Natural Treasures of Ohio"),  and there was the answer to our mystery plant.  We next discovered that there was no record of it growing in Saratoga County, so we were determined to collect a specimen (or at least to mark the site so we could collect it next year when it bloomed). But how to find it again, that was the challenge.  Not only is it quite small, but its spent flower stalk is also exactly the color of the leaves and twigs littering the forest floor by the brook where we remembered it growing.

 Our Autumn Coralroot was well past blooming, but we marked its site so we can return to collect an herbarium specimen when it blooms next year.

So just guess who saw it first. That's right, our eagle-eyed Sue.  And she found it growing in a spot we hadn't found it before, as well as in its original location.  That woman has the most amazing eyesight!  I never, ever would have seen it without her pointing it out.


Sue also spotted this little golden-eyed Wood Frog hiding among the fallen leaves.

Again, it was Sue who discovered and pointed out to me the lovely chrysanthemum pattern on the inside of these acorn caps.

But even I, with my compromised eyes, could pick out the dozens of little Red Efts wriggling across the rain-damp path today.  This tiny one was the smallest I've ever seen.

Descending the path toward a small rock-lined stream, we were struck by the lacy loveliness of the understory trees, the golden-leaved Striped Maple and Witch Hazel.

How odd, that, when all the other leaves are turning bright colors, these little scalloped disks (I think they are Water Pennywort) have turned a ghostly white, very striking against the dark green moss.

Ooh, doesn't this look gory!  It's a clump of Wood Ear fungus I plucked to take home to add to a stir-fry, and it oozed blood-red liquid all over my hand.  (Sue took this photo for me.)  What's funny is that, in addition to being an edible fungus quite commonly found in Chinese food, the Wood Ear is also believed to have blood-thinning properties.  Could this belief have been suggested by the fungus's own bloody-looking fluid?

Update:  Well, I sure was wrong about this one.  It's not Wood Ear (Auricularia auricula) at all, but rather another fungus called Jelly Leaf or Leafy Jelly (Tremella foliacea).  I didn't eat it, after all, but I wouldn't have poisoned myself either way, since this one is edible, too.  Sort of.  Kind of rubbery.  As I've said before, never eat a fungus you're not absolutely sure of, and I wasn't sure about this one.

More mushrooms, these ones very small (the tallest one maybe two inches) and the most wonderful shade of lime green.

These next mushrooms turned out to be quite a find.  I sure wish I had picked a whole bunch (there were lots of them growing nearby), because when I got home and looked up what they are, I learned they are called Sweet Tooth (Hydnum umbilicatum), one of the choicest edibles.   And so they were, with a fragrance and flavor similar to Chanterelles when I fried my two samples in butter. 


There's a similarly choice and related toothed mushroom called Hedgehog Mushroom (H. repandum), but that one has its teeth descending the stalk and often has a small knob on top.  My mushroom has a deep depression like a belly-button on top (hence the specific name, umbilicatum).  Maybe with all the rain we are having again, I will find many more of this delicious fungus.  I sure hope so.