Kayaking the Gatineau River - Chute du Calumet to Gracefield

Yesterday, my husband and I took the (flatwater) kayaks over to the Gatineau River (la Rivière de la Gatineau) and took them upriver from Gracefield to the Chute du calumet (Calumet Falls). I've charted out the trip we took, and we covered roughly 6km upstream before turning back so that we could catch our ride back to the lake.

This stretch of the river is an easy trip, flat and predictable. The current was still strong; it looked very smooth but if you stopped paddling even for a few moments, you would start flowing back downstream. But this was the only obstacle we had to contend with. For context, I've annotated a map image I took from google, shown below.

Annotated trip map (click to view larger)

I've marked our rough path up the river in a white dotted line. The island near Gracefield, our first stop, had a ton of dragonflies just emerging from their shells, perched on some floating water grasses:

Emerging dragonfly inflating its wings and drying off

As we proceeded upriver, we spotted several herons in the reeds along the shore, and encountered quite a fascinating cliff face that looked like a phenomenal diving point, for those who like such things. Its location is marked on the map. Just beyond the cliff face, I picked up a hitchhiker (who I believe was Aeschna multicolor, the blue-eyed darner) who stuck around for quite some time:

Aeschna multicolor (blue-eyed darner) hitching a ride

My husband waited patiently around while I attempted, mostly unsuccessfully, to photograph some of the beautiful damselflies that were hanging around in the reeds along the shore. Combining shy insects with a drifting kayak makes close-up shots very difficult indeed.  I did manage to get a few shots, including of another emerging dragonfly:

Emerging dragonfly (a darner of some sort, I think), wings not yet fully inflated

There were Calopteryx amata (superb jewelwing damselfly) in huge numbers along the river, and I made a lot of attempts to photograph them. I did manage to get a female at some distance with zoom, but it wasn't until we returned to the Gracefield public dock that I was able to get a shot of the male of the species.

Calopteryx amata female

We stopped for a snack on the little island marked on the map, which we have dubbed goose shit island because its little sandy beach on the downstream side was absolutely covered with goose shit -- presumably it is a pit stop for migrating geese. We also contemplated dubbing the island "Poison Ivy Island", since what wasn't sand or rock was covered in poison ivy, but in the end "Goose Shit Island" won out as a name. We found some rocks which were shaded and free of goose shit and poison ivy on which to eat our snack. A female Calopteryx amata overcame some of her shyness, so I was able to get a few decent shots of her. Afterward, we continued upriver to the Chute du calumet (on the map).

Calopteryx amata female

We did attempt to make our way up the Chute du calumet, which is really more of a severe narrowing of the river than a waterfall; there's a stretch of narrow river that leads to an additional narrowing which cuts the already narrowed width down by about a third. I almost made it; I had managed to get up into the upper vee of the water flow, so was out of the turbulence, but just did not have the strength anymore at that point to dig deep for the amount of time needed to break free of the flow (I need to work out more!). So we portaged up around the rocks and then rode down the falls. The eddies and countercurrents made it a less direct ride than the old bridge narrowings I've ridden before on the Rivière de la petite nation (which, having very smooth flow, basically just accelerate you and shoot you out, which is a great deal of fun).

Since it was by that point late afternoon, we decided to make our way back. The trip downriver was considerably faster and easier, so we took it at a leisurely pace and mostly relaxed and enjoyed the weather, which was absolutely gorgeous.

I managed to snap a photo of one strange-looking bird, which we were able later to identify as an American bittern (Botaurus lentiginosus), which is apparently a rather stout member of the heron family. I've marked the location I took the photo on our trip map as well.

Botaurus lentiginosus fishing in the reeds

I snapped a few photos as we drifted downstream. It really is a beautiful river:

My husband relaxing on the way back downriver

We saw a flock of common mergansers (Mergus merganser) just above Gracefield. Once we got to the dock and beached the ships, I ran about after the damselflies hoping to get a shot of the male. Finally, one held still long enough for me to snap this photo:

Calopteryx amata male

We got back to the lake and set upon our gear with a bleach solution to clean it and ensure that we don't spread anything from the river to the lake. We bleached and scrubbed the kayaks inside and out, the life jackets, the paddles, and our water shoes. This is essential if you bring your boat across bodies of water! Don't contribute to the spread of invasive species or to the contamination of our lakes and rivers, take the time to clean your equipment.

All told, a wonderful trip on a gorgeous day. For those who like river boating but aren't necessarily hardcore enough (or equipped enough) for the famous rapids between Maniwaki and Bouchette, this stretch of the river is very nice and not particularly challenging or dangerous. Perfect for a lazy, hot summer afternoon!

A Well-Known Plant: Yarrow - Achillea millefolium - Herbe à dinde

The star of the day is one of the most broadly-distributed and -recognized wildflowers around: Achillea millefolium (common yarrow, also many other names).

Achillea millefolium inflorescence

This species (actually a huge complex of subspecies) is native more or less to the northern hemisphere's temperate zones, but particular subspecies are native to more restricted areas. This helps to understand the US range map of this plant, which lists the species as both native and introduced on most of the North American continent. This is because some subspecies are native, and others are introduced (particularly from Europe). The Canadian range map is considerably less detailed, going for the simple statement that the plant is native to all parts of Canada. This plant is listed as weedy/invasive in the US [1] but does not have weed status in any of the provinces or territories where such statuses are conferred [2].

Achillea millefolium whole plant

One of the main reasons for Achillea millefolium's fame is its array of purported and variously justified medicinal uses. This plant is a very popular herbal remedy [3,4] with a very long history of use in traditional medicine [3,4,5,6,7,8] for a wide variety of ailments. Modern analyses and tests have confirmed its efficacy as an anti-inflammatory at least in vitro [9], and there is some speculation (which I mention in my previous post about this plant) that the salicylic acid in the plant may make it an effective painkiller [3]. Other claims about the plant's medicinal value are currently insufficiently assessed to make a judgement on.

Achillea millefolium inflorescence lateral view

Regardless of its particular efficacy as a medicine, I do enjoy a cup of tea with the flowers or leaves of Achillea millefolium from time to time. The flavour, though strong, is pleasantly herbal. There is evidence that prolonged use can be potentially harmful and that it is possible to suffer allergic reactions to the plant [3,4], so I do not recommend that anybody consume it too frequently.

Achillea millefolium being pollinated by flies

Achillea millefolium is a hardy, drought-resistant [3,4,5,6,8,10] perennial with an extensive root system [3,4,5,6,8] that makes it suitable for habitat restoration in areas where erosion control is needed [6]. It is an obligate outcrosser [3,6], meaning that it must be pollinated with pollen from a different individual in order to produce seed. It is pollinated by insects [3,8], including beetles, flies, syrphid flies, wasps, and bees [6].

Leave This One to the Butterflies: Asclepias syriaca - Common Milkweed

Today we have a widely-known plant, Asclepias syriaca (common milkweed). I have posted briefly about this species before. It is native to North America (US range map here, Canada range map here). This species is weedy [1], which likely explains why it has managed to become established in Nova Scotia and PEI [2], which are not originally part of its native range.

Asclepias syriaca whole plant

Asclepias syriaca is a member of the Apocynaceae (dogbane family) [2]; several genera of this family produce latex, including Asclepias spp. [3]. Asclepias syriaca also produces some chemicals (specifically cardiac glycosides) which can be quite toxic to humans and livestock, so although parts of the plant are edible, the seed pods and mature leaves are not to be consumed [4]. Seriously, the effects go all the way up to coma [5] (although it would take a very large dose to experience such serious effects [4]), don't just go chowing down on this plant despite it being listed as edible with various sources. The edible portions include the young shoots and the flower buds [4,5,6,7]. Given that they are edible, I had a taste of the flower buds. They were acceptable, but sort of bland with a vague hint of generic 'green' taste; they may be better cooked than they were raw, but some other reports suggest that though edible and nutritious, they're not really much to write home about flavour-wise [5].

Asclepias syriaca inflorescence

Asclepias syriaca has a long history of use in traditional medicine for a wide range of ailments [5].

Asclepias syriaca inflorescence

This plant is evidently much more palatable food to monarch butterflies (Danaus plexippus); Asclepias syriaca is the primary food source of the monarch butterfly larvae [4,5,7,8,9,10,11]. The cardiac glycosides apparently help confer a protection to the larvae and caterpillars by making them toxic [5], which is pretty cool. So I guess if you can't make a poison yourself, get poison elsewhere and incorporate it into your flesh. Pretty hardcore. Some other insects that favour this plant as a food source include the large milkweed bug, common milkweed bug, red milkweed beetle, blue milkweed beetle, bees, wasps, butterflies, moths [5,6,8,9,10]. Anecdotally, I frequently see ants collecting nectar from this plant, although I am probably witnessing nectar-robbing, as ants usually don't provide pollination services (pollen doesn't stick to their armour much, so it doesn't get transferred).

Asclepias syriaca being visited by ants - photo I posted in the previous post about this species

Anyway, my point here is that although Asclepias syriaca is edible, it's not all that tasty, so you're better off leaving it to the monarch butterflies and the other insects that prefer it -- especially considering that the monarch butterfly is potentially under threat and currently being assessed for potential endangered status [12]. I will say (again, purely anecdotally), that I have seen none of the usual monarch butterflies that I am accustomed to seeing at my family's land in the Upper Gatineau; in spite of this, I am reserving judgement on the question of the species' endangerment until the assessment report is released.

Asclepias syriaca inflorescences

Asclepias syriaca is a serious nectar-producer, and it certainly announces that fact loudly; it has a very strong, sweet, pleasant scent that is strong enough to be easily perceptible to humans. Given the large quantities of nectar it produces, it's no surprise that it is a very attractive plant for a whole lot of insects.

Asclepias syriaca - perfect flower close-up - photo posted in my previous post about this species

The flowers of Asclepias syriaca are bisexual or perfect, meaning that they have both male and female parts [6]. This species is primarily outcrossing, meaning that it relies on pollen being brought from another individual in order to reproduce successfully [6]. Good thing it attracts so many willing assistants with the nectar reward it offers for their trouble!

Heal-All - Prunella vulgaris - Herbe du charpentier

I am back home visiting with my parents right now, in the Upper Gatineau. My mother and grandmother asked me to identify a plant which is growing quite abundantly down by the dock, and I am glad that they did, because it was Prunella vulgaris (heal-all, self-heal), a member of the Lamiaceae (mint family).

Prunella vulgaris - whole plant

Prunella vulgaris is native to most of North America [1], though the USDA indicates that it is introduced to parts of Canada (provinces & territories where it is also native) [1]; the Plants of Canada database seems to disagree with this judgement, not indicating anywhere that Prunella vulgaris is considered introduced in parts of Canada [2]. A more detailed reading of the maps indicates that actually the USDA is claiming that Prunella vulgaris var. vulgaris is introduced in most of Canada, but that Prunella vulgaris var. lanceolata is native [1]. So, to see if I could resolve this disagreement I searched the subspecies on the Plants of Canada database but found that though the subspecies are recognized, there is no data and they are referred back to the parent species page [3,4]. For the moment, therefore, no resolution can be made. I will assume that there is some but perhaps insufficient evidence for the claim that Prunella vulgaris var vulgaris is present and introduced in Canada.

Prunella vulgaris inflorescence

If we're speaking purely of the parent species, we see that it is indicated as weedy [1], and has no other special status in the US [1]. It does have special status in parts of Canada, however: it may be at risk in the Yukon and Saskatchewan, and is unassessed in Newfoundland & Labrador [2].

Prunella vulgaris inflorescence

How are we to reconcile such a messy picture? Invasive or potentially invasive in the US, potentially at risk in Canada? Well, it is likely that all of these claims are true. Plants with very broad distributions will tend to have a varied story because of the wide variety of circumstances and conditions that they grow under. It is likely that the plant is weedy and spreads easily; it is also likely that external factors are overcoming that characteristic in the Yukon and in Saskatchewan.

Prunella vulgaris inflorescence

Prunella vulgaris has a long history of use in folk medicine [5,6,7]. There is at present limited evidence for most claims about its medicinal value (I can't find more than one or two in vitro studies to justify any of the claims). That said, the plant is edible and non-toxic so if you feel like giving it a shot there doesn't seem to be any harm in trying (whether or not it is effective is a different question). Given that it's edible, I have given it a taste. It is relatively plain-tasting but contains some undertones common to plants in the Lamiaceae (mint family); I wouldn't go out of my way to eat it as a green, given its relative blandness, but it adds a nice accent to a cup of tea.

Prunella vulgaris developing infructescence

Prunella vulgaris is a source of nectar for bees and butterflies (there was a large bumblebee visiting when I went to identify the plant) [7], and it serves as a larval host for Colias philodice (the clouded sulphur butterfly) [7], which is a common little North American butterfly.

What's in a Name - "Wild Strawberries" and Scientific Nomenclature - Fragaria vesca

By now you will have noticed that I refer to plants on this blog primarily by their scientific names. I will usually supply one or a number of common names as well, but I will write about the plants by their scientific names.

There is good reason for that, one of which I have an opportunity to exemplify today.

So I have posted recently about wild strawberries (once or twice), and now I want to post about wild strawberries again. But this time I'm talking about a different species entirely: Fragaria vesca (wild strawberry, wood strawberry, alpine strawberry).

These are not the only species referred to by the name "wild strawberry", either. This is a frequent issue with common names. Simply put, if I were to write about a plant using the common  name, I would end up quite imprecise. Using the species name cuts down on the confusion and debate about which species I am referring to.

Another issue is that many of the more familiar species have a wide variety of names which are used variously frequently. This leads to some confusion about plant identification and often debate about the correct name for a given species. I avoid this issue altogether simply by using the accepted scientific name for the plant in question. 

One more serious issue I have with the use of common names for plants is that a large number of species simply do not have common names at all. This is especially true with insects and small plants.

Fragaria vesca leaves

So the species I'm going to be talking about today, Fragaria vesca is native to most of the North American continent [1]. Fragaria vesca subsp. americana is extirpated in Indiana [2] and otherwise unlisted in the US. In Canada, Fragaria vesca is listed as secure in most of its range, except in the Northwest Territories where its status is undetermined, and in Newfoundland and Labrador, where it has not been assessed [3].

The fruit and leaves of Fragaria vesca are a source of food for the Portola woodrat and valley quail [4], and is available in some nurseries as a garden plant [4].

Fragaria vesca, like Fragaria virginiana, is a member of the Rosaceae (rose family) which produces an edible red berry. The fruit of Fragaria vesca, however, is differently shaped, with the seeds riding on the surface of the fruit (none of the indentation which is visible with Fragaria virginiana) and often a more pointed shape. 

Fragaria vesca - more pointed shape, seeds riding on the surface

In comparison, the seeds on Fragaria virginiana are inset in the fruit:

Fragaria virginiana - fruit with seeds inset

The fruit is also displayed on a stem which rises above the leaves in Fragaria vesca, while the fruit is generally below the leaves in Fragaria virginiana.

Fragaria vesca fruit - above the leaves

Note that the fruit in Fragaria virginiana, by comparison, is below the leaves:

Fragaria virginiana - note the fruit below the leaves

Although I do pick and eat Fragaria vesca, I don't go so much out of my way for it, because it is not so tasty as Fragaria virginiana. It's palatable enough, but where Fragaria virginiana is sweet, juicy, tart, and exceedingly flavourful, Fragaria vesca is blander. The distinctive characteristic which makes this fruit much less appealing to eat also makes it rather interesting, however: the fruit is quite dry, and for that reason it is exceptionally light. You can have a handful of them and they will not feel weighty at all in your palm. The fruit is large for its weight, likely due to its airy, somewhat foamy texture.

All told, Fragaria vesca is tasty enough, but I wouldn't go far out of my way for it. I do harvest them when they're available, though. I got a nice handful today:

Fragaria vesca - a respectable harvest for a few minutes' work

Syrphid Flies - Syrphidae

I have mentioned syrphid flies before on my blog, usually when mentioning the pollinators of a given plant. But what's a syrphid fly?

"Syrphid fly" refers to an entire family of insects, the Syrphidae, which are bee and wasp mimics. They resemble bees or wasps, which confers some of the natural defenses and safety that would be accorded those more dangerous species that they emulate.

Many syrphid flies are nectar and pollen eaters, and so will be attracted to flowers and provide pollination services. Many of these species are not nectar-robbers but pollinators, though we don't necessarily think first of flies when we think of pollinators.

This family is quite large and diverse. I am not, for the most part, able to identify particular species of syrphid fly. Sometimes it is obvious that two individuals belong to different species; other times, it takes close observation.

There were quite a lot of syrphid flies visiting the flowers of the insect gardens in the Montreal Botanical Gardens. They were mostly of the same size and shape, so probably the same genus. It wasn't until later when I was looking at my photographs that I realized that there were multiple species. Take this one here:

Syrphid fly

 This one has dark eyes, and a stripey abdomen which transitions from yellow to red at the tip.

Syrphid fly

This second one (I posted this photo yesterday for the discussion of Rudbeckia hirta), on the other hand, has red eyes, and a yellow patterned abdomen.

Likely these are two different species (I say likely because I am not certain of this; it is theoretically possible that there might be extreme polymorphism in a single species, but unlikely).

As I was looking through the photos another thing jumped out at me. In that first photo, the syrphid has a strange, bulgy yellow protuberance between its eyes. I wondered what it was: mouth parts? A sensory organ of some sort?

So I trotted down to reddit and asked the helpful entomologists on /r/whatsthisbug about it. I was told that that yellow protuberance is actually the antennae, which are frequently heavily modified in syrphid flies. So. Syrphids can have very strange-looking antennae indeed.

Black-Eyed Susan - Rudbeckia hirta - Rudbeckie

I have posted briefly about this flower before. Today I will talk about it a bit more in-depth. One of the first things I will say about this species is that it is native to many parts of North America (North American range map here), including Quebec (where the previous post and this post's photographs were taken), but that it has been introduced to British Columbia, Alberta, Manitoba, New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, PEI, and Newfoundland & Labrador [1], likely as an ornamental. This plant can be weedy in some situations [2]; the classification likely reflects this plant's ability to spread and colonize new areas.

Rudbeckia hirta - in the insect gardens at the Montreal Botanical Gardens

This species is also frequently referred to as Rudbeckia serotina, but this is no longer an accepted taxonomic designation and R. serotina is considered a synonym of R. hirta (var. pulcherrima) [3,4,5].

Rudbeckia hirta flower bud

Rudbeckia hirta is a useful plant for rehabilitating roadsides, as it is a good plant for erosion management [6]. This flower is also a minor source of food and shelter for a variety of song and game birds [2,6].

Rudbeckia hirta flower

One variety of Rudbeckia hirta is a biennial plant [6,7]. This means that it lives for two years and has a distinct growth phase for each (a bit like Verbascum thapsus, which I will post about at some point when I get some good photos). The first year, it produces a rather unprepossessing basal rosette of leaves, and the second year, the flowering stalk we are familiar with. After flowering and going to seed, the plant dies and the seeds start the whole process over again.

Other varieties of Rudbeckia hirta are simple annuals; they sprout from seed, bloom, go to seed, and die back to start over again.

Rudbeckia hirta flower visited by syrphid fly

This species provides nectar and is attractive to bees and butterflies [8], which would explain why it had been planted in the insect garden at the Montreal Botanical Garden. Also, the seeds are attractive to birds [8].

Rudbeckia hirta flower visited by syrphid fly

It sure is a beauty, isn't it!