Great Spangled Frits, White Pelicans and Summer Wildflowers in the Tualatin River Refuge

     This week we plunged into summer butterfly watching in the Pacific Northwest.  With our mentors admonition (butterflies emerge in response to humidity and temperature) in mind, we noted the streak of days over 90 degrees in the Portland area and thought, maybe it's time to look for some big orange butterflies.  

Great Spangled Fritillary, Dougan Creek, July 2025

     On Monday we headed up the winding Washougal River Road to Dougan Falls.  Our first two stops, up river from Naked Falls,  yielded some tiny Lorquin's Admirals and a plethora of Clodius Parnassians.  Its a good year for both species, who fly for a long period stretching from spring into summer.  

   Following that relatively weak start, we moved around the corner to our third spot on Dougan Creek.  At this point we had little in the bag but high hopes.  Dougan Creek is a playful stream that burbles over boulders and forms pools which in the summer are home to water boatmen.  These curious insects, with their feet transformed into floating pads, are a source of joy for my sweetie.  Hence, this stop on the rocky beach is one of our favorites.

   Its a slightly precarious descent from the wide spot in the road down to the rocky creek bed, and in our dotage we managed this with care.  Once down among the boulders, Sandra was drawn to her boatmen, plying their trade in the pools next to the burbling stream.  I was down on the rocks, as well, with my net in hand. 

Great Spangled Frit, dorsal.

    As we enjoyed the warm summer noontime in this riparian paradise, I was attracted to several orange butterflies coursing up and down the stream.  Finally one landed near me, which was lucky, because I was having no luck netting one of these fast flying beasts.  The butterfly perched on a rock about five feet away.  He was just past the reach of my net and angled in such away that was not conducive to photography.  However, my look was sufficient to confirm that this was a California Tortoiseshell.  You will recall that in a recent blog I predicted that this will be a boom year for Cali Torts.  We have not seen this species at Dougan Falls before and it makes me wonder where else they will show up.

   Back up by our car, we noted some larger orange butterflies making their way up and down the road. One came flying by me and I thought I had it in the net, but when I stopped spinning, I found that I was mistaken.

    In some circles, composed of mostly middle aged lepidopterists, this is known as the empty net syndrome.  ENS can lead to an existential crisis.  Psycho-babble experts from the Cleveland Clinic warn: Don't blame the butterfly!

  Fifty yards up the road I could see several of these guys cavorting among the alders.  I made it to their convocation without scaring them away.  To my delight, one was perched on a blackberry vine, offering both an excellent look (look at those bright silver spots!)  and a chance for a capture.  He was fairly close and this time the net did not miss; I had a beautiful big butterfly as a reward.

The Stream Violet,  Viola glabella

   Back at the ranch, we took our pictures, the best of which you see here.  This was, indeed, a Great Spangled Fritilllary Butterfly.  The biggest and bestest of his ilk.  Although we have seen this fast flying insect in several locations over the last few years (including this stretch of Dougan Creek Road) we have never been lucky enough to catch one.  I hope you enjoy the pictures.

    A couple things to notice.  First, the dorsal view of this butterfly does not do justice to the fiery orange you see in the field.  As you can see, we brought him outside with hopes that this would improve the picture, but without enhancing the color artificially, this is the best we could achieve.   It is probable that, as in reef fish, color is highly dependent on mood. Suffice it to say, there is nothing like being put in a vegetable bag and shoved in the refrigerator to put a damper on your joie de vivre.

 Next, look at the size of the silver spots on the VHW.  If you have the time and inclination, you can flip back to the previous blog where we presented a gorgeous Zerene from Peterson Prairie.  Compare the two and you will see that although the Zerene is definitely smaller, it is the Great Spangled Frit that is left with spot envy.  According to Robert Pyle, this King of the Frits, with his marvelous cream-colored submarginal band, has the smallest spots of any greater frit in the PNW.

White Pelicans, Tualatin river NWR

   By the way, it's damn lucky that this is a summer butterfly, emerging from his chrysalis in July. If he were to emerge on the Wednesday preceding the first Sunday following the first full moon after the Vernal Equinox, and present himself as the King of the Frits, he could very well get his ass crucified. Picture Pontius Pilate with a butterfly net and an itty bitty cross.  While this might lead to a totally new religion, it would leave us butterfly fanciers bereft of one of our favorites. 

   In preparation for this blog, I re-read the section in Robert Pyle's book.  He makes a variety of observations.  He points out the smaller silver spots.   He also notes that all frits are obligated to lay their eggs on violets.  That's right, all fritillary caterpillars will dine on nothing less.  For her host plant, the female Great Spangled Fritillary uses, almost exclusively, the stream violet, viola glabella.  I pulled up a picture of this species courtesy of Mr. Google and Sandra exclaimed, "Who would have thought that a violet would have yellow flowers!" 

Common Chickory

    Oxymoronic plant names aside, one is left with a couple thoughts.  If one wants to find frits, he or she damn well better be looking in an environment suitable for violets.  The obvious corollary is, if one gets good at identifying violets, he or she might very well find a fritillary caterpillar.  As you may recall, some fritillary butterflies overwinter as eggs laid on dying violet debris, in hopes that when the violets start to grow in the spring the eggs will hatch, the caterpillars will eat the violet leaves and life will go on.  Others, and this is how the GSF solves the problem, lay eggs in late fall, the eggs hatch and the L1 caterpillar undergoes diapause, remaining an insignificant little fellow, sequestered in violet debris until spring.  When the violet starts to grow. the caterpillar comes to life and starts to dine sumptuously on viola alfresco.  

    The thing that caught my eye and made me spring to life like a tiny caterpillar surrounded by freshly growing violets, was Pyle's comment that the Great Spangled frit is found in Willamette Valley wildlife refuges, specifically the Finley NWR, which is not far from where I once resided.  Sandra and I no longer live that far south, but I have been acutely aware of another Willamette Valley refuge, the Tualatin River National Wildlife Refuge that is just outside Portland... a mere 45 minutes away if the Portland traffic cooperates.  Earlier this spring Sara's Orangetip Butterfly waws reported from this refuge.  We were on our way to investigate when life intervened and the butterfly expedition was derailed.  

Sidalcea diploscypha  aka  Fringed Checkerbloom 

   But now we had another reason to visit the Tualatin River NWR and yesterday we did just that.  Portland traffic was remarkably benign, and we arrived at the refuge a little after 9:30. In the car park I accosted a woman dressed for a nature hike.  We were soon joined by her husband who knew quite a bit about butterflies.  I suspect he knew much more than I was willing to receive at the moment.  He provided what I asked for...the shortest way to get to a wet area that might support butterflies.  Along with his hiking instructions, he opined that he didn't think we would see many butterflies, but we were bound to see pelicans.

   We were soon on the trail.  While it was warm enough for butterflies even before 10 AM, experience suggested that they would not be seen that early.  So as we walked, we noticed that there were a variety of thistles, a remarkable butterfly magnet, and a surprising number of other wildflowers.  

   And there were pelicans.  These were white pelicans, which have moved into the Willamette Valley as breeding birds for well over a decade. That I was unaware of this is a bit of a mystery.  These are large birds and the lake where they reside is within view of a major highway.  Not only that, but there were a lot of them, more than two dozen, for sure.  We didn't get especially close, and Sandra did her best to get pictures. 

Grindelia integrifolia aka Puget Sound Gum Weed

   We also saw a pair of Lesser Yellowlegs and a snipe.  The latter is a bird which I haven't seen in many years.  When the light was right the snipe glowed a handsome rufous, which Sandra's picture fails to capture.

   The trail we had chosen led across a huge, sunbaked field, dotted with shallow lakes. It was apparent that this habitat, as opposed to the cool riparian habitat near Dougan Creek, would not support violets.  As it has been so hot lately, I was surprised to find a number of wildflowers.  Google Lens which is easily found in the Google Photos app is a remarkably adept at identifying both flowering plants and butterflies.  Thus, I was able to photograph and identify three flowers that I believe you will find interesting.

   The first we saw was Common Chickory.  This handsome blue flower is supported by a root that back in days of less affluence was dried, ground and used as a poor substitute for coffee.  Although I have associated chickory with the rural south, this herb is widely distributed in North America.  

    Next was a pretty violet flower that occurred all along our trail.  This beauty is fringed checkerbloom.  It's a member of the mallow family, is found in the valleys of California and Oregon and, aside from being beautiful is of little interest.

   The last flower I would like to present is Grindelia integrifolia, which bears the common name Puget Sound Gum Weed.  Despite its mouthful of a name, this plant is perhaps the most interesting.  It is native to the Pacific Northwest and is one of those plants, like asters, that bloom in the summer and into the fall.   In this way, they provide nectar for butterflies and bees later in the season.  In addition, this plant is used in herbal medicine.  Native Americans used Grindelia for respiratory diseases.  Modern herbalists use it as an expectorant, an anti-arrhythmic and to calm your flustered nerves.  I'm including here a link for a you tube video featuring a young lady herbalist who handles a plant on the shores of Puget Sound and gives you the complete rundown from her perspective.  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UiJb_kCsxKc

    If you don't want to go to all the trouble of processing PGSW into an elixir, you can buy Grindelia capsules from Amazon.com.  And yes, the apocalypse has arrived.

  At about 11 AM Sandra spotted a Western Tiger Swallowtail, which aside from a few cabbages was all we saw in the way of butterflies.  She got this nice photo of a soaring pelican as we walked back to the car.  

   There are miles and miles of trails at this refuge.  We saw a number of people out for a walk.  Dogs and joggers are prohibited.  If one were prepared for a longer walk there is undoubtedly good butterfly habitat at Tualatin River NWR and perhaps we will tackle it again this season.

jeff

I'll see your Yellowlegs and raise you a snipe.

Peterson Prairie in early July

      Its a tough drive to Trout Lake from Vancouver, the better part of two hours, including a winding drive over a small mountain named Cape Horn.  However, if you want to see butterflies, you ain't gonna see them at Vancouver Mall.  And so, Sandra and I picked the best day, with a predicted high in the low 80s, to make our pilgrimage to our mentor's favorite early summer spot.  

That famous lepidopterist, Huckleberry Hound.

   Peterson Prairie is 15 miles southwest of the tiny metropolis of Trout Lake and the if you weren't interested in butterflies, you would drive by it on the way to the huckleberry fields.  I don't think I would recognize a huckleberry if I met it my bowl of corn flakes.  Probably the closest I ever came to huckleberries was on Saturday mornings, ever so long ago, when my brother and I would watch Huckleberry Hound.  And what, you ask, does this possibly have to do with butterflies?  

   Caitlin had warned us that it was going to be a little early for the two signature fritillaries for Peterson Prairie, Zerene and Mormon.  In fact, at 3,000 feet, it was a little early for all sorts for things.  But not for Ochre Ringlets, that small ubiquitous butterfly that a month ago we found at the Steigerwald Refuge in Washougal.  When a butterfly makes it all the way into Washougal, you know it's a butterfly that is willing to adapt to ordinary, west of the Cascades habitat.

Ana's Blue and Zerene Fritillary in the lab.

   Starting a little after 10 AM we played through the ochre ringlets and annoying little grasshoppers and started seeing some good butterflies.  My first was a California Tortoiseshell.  He was a beauty and sat in the weeds by my feet for 15 seconds.  You will recall that we saw many California torts a couple weeks ago at Alpine on Mt. Hood and the prediction is that this is going to be a very good year for that handsome species.  

   Flying early were numerous small blues.  This was the first species we netted.  It was impossible to tell through the bag what we were looking at.  Cait had told us that Anna's, a fussy species seldom seen, might be at Peterson Prairie.  These small blues continued to fly for the two hours we worked the meadows, and I got some pictures, but none were good enough for us to make an identification.  

I'm thinking another 30 seconds in the freezer.

   When we got our specimen home we took multiple pictures.  I sent one to Caitlin in my 2 AM email. (It's amazing the amount of work an old guy with a cell phone can accomplish in the wee hours.  Anyway, this morning I was greeted with her reply.  She identified this small blue as an Anna's, calling our attention to the trace of yellow in the last spot at the base of the hind wing.  I can just make it out.  Can you?

   That is why she is Caitlin LaBar and you're not!

   A word about my photograph.  We try not to take too many butterflies.  Unlike some lepidopterists, we do not collect our butterflies.  Rather we just take pictures and then release them.  Unfortunately, if you have moved a butterfly 50 miles or more, it is unlikely to wing its way back home in time to hook up with a partner and make fertile eggs, which is the bottom line imperative of most animals.

   Equally unfortunate from the standpoint of the individual butterfly, to gain a full measure of cooperation, we refrigerate them to slow their metabolism, rendering them more tractable and photographable for a period of time as they warm. The effect of refrigeration on a butterfly is far from uniform.  Some come out with wings up, and in a couple of minutes unfold their wings, and we take them outside for one more set of photos and then off they fly, into the wild blue yonder, if you will. 

A Zerene Fritillary in the palm of your hand.

    Sadly, some butterflies are a tad recalcitrant.  A few hours of refrigeration has relatively little effect on these reprobates and they are still active,  without a period of stillness.  In this case, we put them in the freezer for a very short period of time.  We start at fifteen seconds and work our way up until the desired state of cooperation is achieved.  In the case of the zerene, he failed to respond to simple refrigeration and ended up getting thirty seconds of freezing.  I hate to say it, but I think of Colonel Klink putting poor little LeBeau in the cooler.  Now think of a Nazi somewhat more malevolent than Werner Klemperer.  Now think of me, minus the swastikas.  Ouch!  

   Well, as you can see, we ended up with a pretty good set of pictures and Mr. Zerene survived to fly away.  But it was a close run thing.  While we were waiting for the Zerene to come around, we brought out the blue.  He wasn't completely cooperative, but was spared the freezer.  We put him on the same platform with the Zerene, and he proceeded to walk back and forth from one end of the wood to the other, a bit like a mechanical toy.... a very small toy and one in which the battery, instead of running down, progressively gained in strength.  Occasionally he would bump into the Zerene, causing him to twitch, but not fly away.  

Zerene Fritillary, Trout Lake, Wa.  July 2025

   Putting myself in the place of Mr.Zerene, I picture myself in an airport lounge.  I've just flown on a red ey for five hours and I'm trying to sleep it off.  At this moment a six year old child in a blue jumper comes along and feels in my pockets for a possible lump of candy.  And I twitch,  Poor Mr. Zerene!

 I finally got a suitable picture and soon thereafter the little blue flew up into the window.  This is a bad career choice.  It's almost impossible to get them down out of a window.  Serves him right for bothering Mr. Zerene. 

   Back to the prairie, we caught the blue and a Western Meadow Frit in the first meadow, the one nearest the car park.  Placing them securely in the refrigerator bag, we made our way down the highway and strolled down to the second meadow.  On entering the meadow, I saw two bright yellow birds almost 100 yards away.  They were perching on a stump which put them a foot or so above the grass, and swooping out for short forays over the prairie.  As I got closer, I could make out their red faces.  These were Western Tanagers flycatching!  I hadn't observed that behavior in this classic western bird before.  By the time I got my camera set to take a picture, they had departed. 

A Western tiger Swallowtail nectars on a Columbia Tiger Lily

   As above, at about this time I caught a Zerene, which, as you can see from the pictures was a very handsome insect, indeed.  Caitlin was interested in this one, as she thought it was early for it to appear in her prairie.  There were darker fritillaries that neither Sandra nor I could get in the net.   This was not for lack of trying and i'm lucky I didn't break my leg chasing after these guys.  Cait suggests these were Hydaspe Frit, but  lacking a specimen, I would hate to say for sure. 

   After 11:15 we were suddenly joined by a half dozen Western Tiger Swallowtails.   Like the Ochre Ringlets that started the day, this is a butterfly that we see in the lowlands and have not previously seen here at Peterson Prairie.   I'm leaving you with a picture of one of these beauties nectaring on a Columbia Tiger Lily.  Pretty sweet.

jeff

Trout Lake lies in the shadow of Mount Adams