The Osculent Chirp of Death

September 29th, 2006

Special Week Special No. 4

Today during Special Week at SOS Forests, we present the first Blogosphere pictures of the Black Crater Burn.

The Black Crater Fire started last July in the Three Sisters Wilderness of the Deschutes National Forest, west of Sisters, Oregon. By the time it was contained, nearly 10,000 acres had burned and nearly $10,000,000 had been spent fighting the fire. Most of the acreage burned was on public and private lands outside the designated wilderness.

The Black Crater Fire was contained in mid-August. These pictures were taken today, Friday, 9/29/06.

At the entrance of the 15 Road near Highway 246 is this macabre sign: a warning, become an omen, become grim reality.

BC Burn sign
Click for larger image (144 KB).

The forest that burned was, like so many western forests, multi-cohort ponderosa pine. The older cohort consisted of 10 to 20 trees per acre, all over 150 years old, but of varying ages up to 300+ years. The younger cohort had as many as 1,000 trees per acre, all 120 years old and younger.

This is what the forest looked like before the fire. Note the scattered old trees, one of them recently deceased. The thicket below competes with the older trees, not for sun, but for soil moisture. (The debris is pushed up from the fireline behind the camera.)

BC Burn before
Click for larger image (237 KB).

The older cohort trees are the remnant relics from the open, park-like forest that once covered much the West. The open forest, almost a conifer savanna, was maintained by frequent, regular, anthropogenic fire, i.e. fire set by anthropoids, the human residents of the region for millennia past. In the absence of the Tenders and their firesticks, a thicket of doghair, “bull pine” ponderosa has arisen underneath the older cohort.

The ancient fires protected forests. Modern fires destroy them. For example, not 200 feet away from the last pic, but inside the fireline, this old growth, ancient, heritage tree was killed by the fire.

BC Burn OG 03
Click for larger image (215 KB).

This old growth tree was shooting sparks and had to be felled and bucked. It was 222 years old 8 feet off the ground, so approximately 240 years old. It germinated around 1760.

BC Burn OG 01
Click for larger image (235 KB).

This old tree had lived through many fires, but this fire burned it through, and it fell. Firefighters bucked the burning butt log off. The tree had 264 rings at 12 feet off the ground, so was approximately 290 years old, germinating around 1710.

BC Burn OG 02
Click for larger image (259 KB).

The dead forest is nearly silent now. There are no birds, or squirrels, or chipmunks. There is a faint hum, though. Almost every dead tree emits a tiny chirping noise. Softer than a cricket, regular and rhythmic, the chirps sound like little kisses.

BC Burn 010
Click for larger image (302 KB).

They are kisses of death: the mating calls of the male mountain pine beetle, Dendroctonus ponderosae. The male beetles invade the freshly killed trees, depositing a blue stain fungus, Ophiostoma sp., in the still wet cambiums. The females are attracted by the osculent chirping. The beetles mate as enthusiastically as small insects can, and the females deposit eggs in galleries under the bark. The larvae that hatch shortly thereafter, together with the blue stain fungus, girdle and plug up vessels in living trees, which are also invaded after the fire.

This old growth ponderosa pine survived the fire. It will not survive the beetle infestation.

BC Burn OG 04
Click for larger image (194 KB).

A few patches of doomed green trees here and there, less than 5 percent of total burn area that we walked through, and the eerie, rhythmic chirping of the bark beetles, were the only signs of life today in the Black Crater Burn.

This entry was posted on Friday, September 29th, 2006 at 10:07 pm and is filed under The 2006 Fire Season, Black Crater Fire, Fire and forests, Forest Examples, Features of Forests. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.

5 Responses to “The Osculent Chirp of Death”

  1. Mike Says:

    Afternote: we changed “osculating” to “osculent”. Author’s Perogative. And while neither is actually a real word, we have disobserved that formality prenumerously.

  2. Pete the Pirate Says:

    I liked osculating much better. It had sort of a tintintabulatory ring to it that caught the essence of these little buggers just about right, once they’ve laid claim to an area. Osculent is just too frothy and effervescent by comparison; osculating is more immediate and threatening. One pirate’s opinion.

  3. Mike Says:

    You say tomato, I say potato.

    Can we agree to agree that we are both right?

  4. P. Pirate Says:

    Aargh!

  5. Chauncy Says:

    Chauncy, a leading entomologist and bug dude, as well as an SOSFer, writes:

    I didn’t know much about chirping bark beetles, so I did a little bit of research in my library and on the web. Here is a nice little story:

    In the recent Ithaca Times “Best of Ithaca” poll, a few people pointed to the wide spread die-off of local trees as a sign of the Apocalypse coming to Ithaca…

    Normally, pine trees can produce enough sap to push an invading beetle out, but a drought stressed tree just can’t get enough flow going. Then, the feeding of the beetle larvae and the clogging effect of the fungus make the water supply problem worse. Just to complicate things, Paul Weston, Woody Ornamentals Entomologist - i.e., bug guy - from Cornell, thinks that the trees are being selected for attack precisely because they are already dying from the drought.

    Ips pini [the pine engraver beetle] is unusual in that it is the male beetle who selects and builds the nuptual chamber, instead of the female, and he who waits for the appropriate mate to pop round. She “stridulates” outside, which is the technical term for chirping. Scientists have actually analyzed the stridulating of female beetles, and have concluded that the male listens for a female who is REALLY LOUD. This seems like a clear cut case of the squeaky wheel getting the grease, but it turns out that females who chirp loudly are usually stronger and more energetic than weak chirpers, so a male who holds out for a noisy mate will have his genes combined with those of a strong individual.

    In the same study scientists counted and analyzed predator attacks on pine bark beetles [the osculent subjects of this post], and concluded that predators sometimes drop females when they chirp, while the poor chirpless male is always eaten once he’s caught. This may seem like a clear case of scientists with too much time on their hands, but it is also points to the evolutionary origin of vocalization, especially cries and lamentations.

    from Sapped of strength by Karen Scott, published 10/18/2006 in the Ithaca Times (see here).