On May 29th, we officially began our field season. An atypical crew, “The Boys From the South” were functioning like a well-oiled machine and ready to get down to business. However, the next three weeks were assumed to be the hardest of the whole summer. An ambitious schedule is how I described it. Honestly, I had my doubts whether it could be done. Our fledgling crew was about to be tested. Would we sink or swim in that vast sea of mountain laurel?
I fondly remember us as a motley crew. We were three wildlifers and an environmental science major with varying degrees of plant intrigue. I turned forty that winter, Jonathan and Jerry were in their thirties, and Curtis, the old soul, was the youngest in his mid-twenties. The four of us were in different places in life. Jerry and I were veterans of the game, boasting years of field experience. Jonathan wasn’t a novice but he was still getting his feet wet as a recent graduate. Curtis, the environmental science major, still had a semester of school to complete. In comparison, the north crew was a better representation the people normally employed by this study or most tech jobs for that matter — early twenties, mostly inexperienced recent graduates or still in school. I wondered if Danielle stacked the deck in my favor to give me a reprieve from the twenty-somethings. Don’t get me wrong, I picked up quite a few friends in that cohort during my travels and I consider many to be wonderful people. Nonetheless, I was happy to have a nontraditional crew and enjoy the different perspectives they brought.
As crew leader, my mission was to ensure good data collection and keep my crew safe. The assignment was easy to accept because I believed in the importance of our work and I cared for my crew. Having a good relationship with the researchers on this study, I didn’t want to let them down. Although duty-bound, I also had my own agenda; I wanted my crew to have a good experience because I knew what previous field seasons had done for me. My prerogative was to create an enjoyable and fulfilling environment while getting the job done. The challenge was to pursue this under the demands of an intense field season.
That weekend, I pondered how to approach this conundrum. I wondered how the fledgling crew would weather the next three weeks? I recalled the stories and my own witness of field technicians buckling under the demands of an intense field season. After having spent two weeks with them, I knew that my crew would not fold so easily. They earned my respect and I was impressed by their professionalism. I knew they were up for the challenge.
The hall is rented, the orchestra engaged. It’s now time to see if you can dance.
Q (Star Trek TNG)
I started out leading in an autocratic fashion. I’m sure that my crew would disagree, but that’s how it felt. An “ambitious schedule” was an understatement. The workload was insane and bordered on the impossible — especially for those first three weeks. We worked much more than our forty hours. Each day, ten plus hours were spent in the field and more were required for data management and other supporting tasks. In hurried fashion, we did our best to do what had to be done. In comparison, the schedule for the north crew was a proverbial cakewalk. Luckily, my crew wouldn’t learn of this for several weeks. It wouldn’t have been good for morale. It seemed unfair and I felt bad for the guys. There wasn’t much I could do about our schedule but I could influence our environment.
My goal was to transform from an autocrat into a guide as quickly as possible. The crew had to take ownership and be involved in all aspects of our work. They had to be included in the decision making. The power had to reside in the team and not only me. I began by teaching data management and delegating tasks. Soon, I would no longer be the one navigating to our survey plots or proposing our daily schedule. The crew would decide the best approach. This not only made a stronger team but it also promoted personal growth.
Unbeknownst at the time, embedded in that hellish schedule was the warm up that we needed. That first week slated 65 subplots. Lucky for us, we took out eleven of them as our “final exam” the previous Friday. The remaining 55 subplots comprised of a relatively easy super plot, two herbicided treatment areas, and three diverse regular plots. To boot, none of them were hard to access. Although demanding, the nature of these locations provided a way for us to fine tune our machine.
The plots we visited showcased diversity in an otherwise ericaceous landscape. Rothrock and Bald Eagle are dominated by mountain laurel, rhododendron, blueberry, and huckleberry. This week, however, two of our plots were located in lowland areas with rich, moist soil. Here we observed an abundance of indicator plants (an indication of deer impact and soil quality) and other less common species. These areas are not only interesting, but break up the monotony of cataloging vast quantities of ericaceous species and challenge our plant ID skills. Conversely, the treatment areas we surveyed look like wastelands at first glance. These areas were sprayed with herbicide in years past and have a barren understory. It’s always interesting to visit these places (treatments, clear-cuts, or other disturbed areas) and see what is returning to the forest floor.
A few of the sights during our first week of data collection
Wet painted trillium 
Indian cucumber root 
Mountain laurel 
Pseudotriton Sp. 
Wonderful mushroom 
Exciting fungus 
Curtis and Jonathan leading the way
It could have been much worse. We could have been climbing ridge tops and wading through a sea of mountain laurel all week long. The weather could have brought rain or intense heat. Would that have broken our fledgling crew? I don’t know, but the crew would face these challenges soon. What I do know is that we had a good first week and tackled that “ambitious schedule” head on with professionalism and a great attitude and we finished up the week excited to see what the summer had in store.