Back in December, the first-year grad students felt bored and slightly lost as we sat in a banquet hall at Washington Duke Inn. It was the Biology Department Retreat, although it was a very loose interpretation of the word "retreat," since we were about 200 yards from campus. An idea was born that day, though, that the first-years should have a real retreat of our own, and we were granted some funding to go someplace special. Although I voted for the Duke Marine Lab, the winning place was the Mountain Lake Biological Station. I'm sure the knowledge that Dirty Dancing was filmed at the nearby Mountain Lake Hotel swayed a few of the female voters. It's located at the edge of the Appalachian mountains near Blacksburg, VA, and I must say I'm glad we chose the spot, the weather was great and we had the whole place to ourselves.
Since I'm taking a Bryology class this semester, I've gotten in the habit of taking my collecting bag wherever I go. It's complete with my GPS, Camera, small paper bags, and pens. It also contains a 14x hand lens, which others have lovingly referred to as a "nerd beacon," as you can always tell a naturalist from the small lens draped around his neck. Throughout the day, I kept looking for Funaria in its customary places: near old campfires, along the edges of the paths. Plenty of moss everywhere, but no Funaria. That was fine, and I had fun telling the laboratory-stricken among us all about bryophytes. Later in the day, there was a movement to hike up to Bear Cliffs, which is a sheer cliff-face that overlooks all of the Piedmont of central Virginia.
I am not very well suited for field biology in the mountains. I learned this back in March when our Bryology class went to the Highlands Biological Station, up in the NC mountains. Climbing uphill was tough on me, and to try and keep up I would hunch over and hurry upwards, which ruined my back for a few days afterwards. Most of it is because I'm out of shape, and I'm working on that. The MLBS, meanwhile, is at 3800 feet, and these "Bear Cliffs" were at 4100 feet, so there was a bit of a climb to come for me. My back and legs screaming, I eventually made it up to the top, about 15 minutes after everyone else:
My GPS disagreed with the elevation listed on the sign, but that wasn't a primary concern. This picture was taken across a crevice that had a sheer drop of 100 feet or so, and I had to negotiate around to finally get to the flat-topped rock where everyone was sitting. I said hello and then wanted to take in the view, which was striking:
I then sat down on the rock to enjoy the view (and catch my breath), and I leaned back. One hand found rock behind me, but the other went into something moist and squishy. Alarmed, I spun around and let out a high pitched "Cool!" that caused the others to look at me very weirdly. Here's what I saw:
Funaria! On the top of this mountain! I whipped out my collecting bags and my knife and carefully sampled the population. The trip up the mountain was definitely worth it. When I got back to Duke, I was telling my advisor about this and his colleague across the hall declared afterwards: "A success, of Accidental Bryology!" Indeed, it was.
Since I'm taking a Bryology class this semester, I've gotten in the habit of taking my collecting bag wherever I go. It's complete with my GPS, Camera, small paper bags, and pens. It also contains a 14x hand lens, which others have lovingly referred to as a "nerd beacon," as you can always tell a naturalist from the small lens draped around his neck. Throughout the day, I kept looking for Funaria in its customary places: near old campfires, along the edges of the paths. Plenty of moss everywhere, but no Funaria. That was fine, and I had fun telling the laboratory-stricken among us all about bryophytes. Later in the day, there was a movement to hike up to Bear Cliffs, which is a sheer cliff-face that overlooks all of the Piedmont of central Virginia.
I am not very well suited for field biology in the mountains. I learned this back in March when our Bryology class went to the Highlands Biological Station, up in the NC mountains. Climbing uphill was tough on me, and to try and keep up I would hunch over and hurry upwards, which ruined my back for a few days afterwards. Most of it is because I'm out of shape, and I'm working on that. The MLBS, meanwhile, is at 3800 feet, and these "Bear Cliffs" were at 4100 feet, so there was a bit of a climb to come for me. My back and legs screaming, I eventually made it up to the top, about 15 minutes after everyone else:
My GPS disagreed with the elevation listed on the sign, but that wasn't a primary concern. This picture was taken across a crevice that had a sheer drop of 100 feet or so, and I had to negotiate around to finally get to the flat-topped rock where everyone was sitting. I said hello and then wanted to take in the view, which was striking:
I then sat down on the rock to enjoy the view (and catch my breath), and I leaned back. One hand found rock behind me, but the other went into something moist and squishy. Alarmed, I spun around and let out a high pitched "Cool!" that caused the others to look at me very weirdly. Here's what I saw:
Funaria! On the top of this mountain! I whipped out my collecting bags and my knife and carefully sampled the population. The trip up the mountain was definitely worth it. When I got back to Duke, I was telling my advisor about this and his colleague across the hall declared afterwards: "A success, of Accidental Bryology!" Indeed, it was.
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