The Ant Hunter

Texas leafcutter ants adapt to cold winters

2011-02-21T15:28:00.006-06:00

A study that I was involved in will be published this week in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences! Click here to read the Rice University press release summarizing our findings.

Photo of Atta texana workers tending their fungus garden, by Alexander Mikheyev

Visualizing deep history

2011-02-09T15:44:00.003-06:00

A student in my Introductory Biology class shared this website with me.

It has a fun animation summarizing the history of the Universe, including the history of the Earth. It's interactive, so you can take your time, go backwards, or forwards, and get a sense of when some of the major events (e.g. origin of life, first land animals, etc.) took place.

I've seen many similar tools, but what I like about this one is that it goes back beyond the origin of the Earth, giving you a sense of how new, relatively speaking, our entire planet is. Not to mention its "intelligent" inhabitants...

Not bad for a blob

2011-02-02T15:49:00.005-06:00

Check out a piece I wrote for Slate Magazine about some research by my Rice colleagues on the evolution of primitive farming by a social amoeba-- aka "slime mold."

A variety of other places have covered the story, which is great publicity for their cool discovery. Some photos that I took of the social amoeba got picked up by several places, including The New York Times and a magazine in Sweden that plans to publish a full page version of this photo:

Here are a few more photos I took of the lovely Dicty farmers, as well as their discoverer, Debbie Brock, in her natural habitat.

Ants navigate with an internal compass

2011-02-02T15:40:00.002-06:00

Research on the South American ant species Pachycondyla marginata shows that worker ants navigate by means of a magnetic compass housed within their antennae.

Photo by Alex Wild

It's time to tidy up the colony!

2010-07-05T22:33:00.006-05:00

Please excuse the long break from new posts. I am in the process of restructuring this blog. Please check back soon for an update...

Image from: http://www.shelleyandjoshua.com/power_point_&_video.htm

On the origin of primates

2010-02-10T07:11:00.006-06:00

HOUSTON, TX-- Last night I attended a talk at the Houston Museum of Natural Science by NYU "Molecular Primatologist" Todd Disotell. Dr. Disotell, sporting a mohawk, spoke in the museum's IMAX theater about his research on dating the origins of Old World Monkeys using DNA sequence data.

Hair styles aside, Disotell's presentation was disappointing, but it did contain some valuable information.

In a nutshell, his research compares DNA sequences across the range of living monkeys and infers how long ago they shared a common ancestor based on the rate at which DNA mutations accumulate. Because the rate is not constant, but varies depending upon the species and the part of the genome under consideration, it is necessary to calibrate the so-called "molecular clock" using fossils that are of a known age.

Sadly, I believe he failed to make his research, and the complex theories it is based on, understandable to a lay audience, which is exactly who he was speaking to. He did attempt to use analogies ("the molecular clock is more like a 'Swatch'-- different styles for different species or parts of the genome") but these were largely either inaccurate (the Swatches may look different but they still tick at the same rate; a better analogy might involve clocks that run at different rates) or else they simply failed to make his point any clearer, or both.

The upshot of his talk was that primates, according to his calibrated dating analysis using large sections of primate genomes, originated between 70 and 75 million years ago, while dinosaurs still reigned supreme. This date is older than was once thought, but much earlier than some researchers have recently suggested (whose papers Disotell hastily dismissed).

Although his research doesn't address human evolution directly, many of the questions Disotell was asked following his presentation made it clear that that is what was on his audience's mind.

Unfortunately, he missed the opportunity to set the record straight by providing a clear explanation as to how molecular data and DNA sequence data provide independent evidence that support essentially the same conclusion: that you (and I) really are a monkey's uncle.

Photo from Wikipedia.com

Scientific literacy...and lack thereof

2010-02-06T14:53:00.006-06:00

HOUSTON, TX-- Author Chris Mooney was on campus yesterday, speaking at Rice's Baker Institute about his latest book (with coauthor Sheril Kirshenbaum), "Unscientific America: How Scientific Illiteracy Threatens Our Future."

I have read many of Mooney's articles in popular magazines such as Wired, Slate, and Seed, and I share his interest in how science influences public policy, so went by and listened to what he had to say (click here to watch a webcast of his talk).

Mooney began his talk with a variety of embarrassing examples of questions about basic science that the average American apparently can't answer, such as:

How old is the Earth?

(46% of Americans believe the Earth is less than 10,000 years old)

How long does it take for the Earth to orbit the sun?

(only half of American adults know that it takes exactly one year...that's how a year is defined)

There are a plethora of other examples, and Mooney gave some of them. He did not, however, spend much time talking about what scientific literacy actually is.

In their book, which I picked up after the talk and have sense been eagerly thumbing through, Mooney and Kirshenbaum are more explicit about what they mean by scientific literacy (and lack thereof). After citing many of the same examples, culminating in the results of a survey that concluded that (gulp), "80 percent of Americans can't read the New York Times science section" the authors go on to point out how such assessments are not an accurate way to determine how well the public really understands science.

As evidence for this, Mooney asserted that one's political opinions are often a better predictor of one's view on scientific issues such as global warming, as suggested by the following survey result:

Educated Democrats, according to Mooney, are more likely to accept global warming as scientifically valid, whereas educated Republicans are LESS likely to do so (Mooney's previous book, I should point out, is entitled, The Republican War on Science).

They then, in the book, propose a new definition for scientific literacy, focused less on scientific knowledge and more on appreciating the "importance of science to politics, policy, and our collective future."

The remainder of the book, and the remainder of Mooney's talk, elaborated on the causes and consequences of scientific illiteracy, according to their definition of it.
Much of his talk focused on what Mooney considers to be the major "gaps" between scientists (and, along with them, scientific knowledge) and the public.

The gaps he listed are between scientists and (1) politicians, (2) journalists, (3) entertainers, and (4) religion.

Mooney pointed out that these gaps have traditionally been filled by educators and journalists, but that the latter (specifically "science writers" or "science journalists") are a dying breed. He suggested, somewhat to the chagrin of the audience, that educators alone are not able to bridge all four gaps, and that the burden therefore must fall on scientists to reach across the divide and help to contribute to a better informed populace.

Mooney concluded by making a case for the importance of teaching scientists how to effectively communicate as part of their education, and also the importance of public outreach by all scientists.

Citing a terrifying statistic-- that only 7% of Americans under the age of 35 with a Ph.D. can expect to land a tenure-track position-- he argued that more science jobs should be created, and not just in the traditional, academic arena. He made a case for the creation of non-profit jobs, such as a "Science Corps" that would be similar to the existing "Jobs Corps." He also championed a re-branding of scientists from the "geek or freak" stereotype to that of a hero and role model.

I thoroughly enjoyed Mooney's talk, and agree with him on many points (certainly that last one). In particular, I agree that communication skills must become part of the skill set that scientists acquire during their formal education. In fact we are developing a new science communication course here at Rice that will soon be a requirement for all Ecology and Evolutionary Biology seniors.

Public outreach is another of my favorite causes, but how to do so in the most effective way possible remains, in my opinion, an open question. Blogs (like this one) are one way, but I agree with Mooney that there is more misinformation on the internet than good information, making blogs an imperfect, or at least incomplete, solution.

The only thing I disagree with, in part, is the new definition of scientific literacy proposed by Mooney and Kirshenbaum in their book. While I agree that being able to cite so-called scientific "facts" should not alone be synonymous with scientific literacy, I do believe that a certain level of baseline knowledge is necessary.

Nevertheless, at the rate science is advancing, we are (thankfully) beyond the point where any single individual can have an advanced understanding of all fields of science. Instead, I believe the emphasis should be placed on understanding the process of science, how is works, and who is doing it.

Yes, Joe Public should be able to tell you that the Earth is 4.6 billion years old and that it orbits the sun every 365 days, but he should also be able to tell you that Darwin's "theory" of evolution by natural selection is supported by just about as much data as Newton's "theory" of gravity.

Global Warming Debate

2010-01-28T16:49:00.008-06:00

HOUSTON, TX-- Wednesday evening I attended a public debate here at Rice on global climate change between two very qualified climate scientists.

On one side of the debate was Dr. Richard Lindzen, Alfred P. Sloan Professor of Meteorology in the Department of Earth, Atmospheric and Planetary Sciences at MIT. His opponent was Dr. Gerald North Distinguished Professor in the Departments of Atmospheric Sciences and Oceanography at Texas A&M University.

When I mentioned to some friends that there would be a debate on global climate change between a professor from Texas A&M and another from MIT, many expected that the professor from A&M would be arguing "against" global warming. In fact, it was the opposite.

Lindzen began with a lecture on why he believed that the current and future patterns of global climate change have been exaggerated and that the data have been "tilted" to sway public opinion. Interestingly, he conceded that the earth is indeed warming and that man's activities have contributed to this trend.

Nevertheless, he concluded that this is "trivial" and "meaningless in terms of alarm." Unfortunately, his presentation was extremely disorganized and his slides did nothing to help the audience follow his arguments, which tended to ramble in various directions.

North gave a more polished lecture, in which he summarized what he called the "Pillars" of anthropogenic (i.e. human-caused) climate change. These are that (1) carbon dioxide has gone up exponentially in the recent past; (2) temperatures have gone up linearly (i.e. at a roughly constant rate); (3) we are stuck with warming even if we are able to restore balance to the atmosphere; and (4) that there are important feedbacks associated with climate change.

Much of the discussion that followed focused on this last part, namely what North referred to as the "Feedback World." In short, the models predict that increases in carbon dioxide and temperature actually cause there to be even more carbon dioxide and higher temperatures, resulting in a feedback effect that will continue to get more extreme.

Not so, said Lindzen. His interpretation of data from satellites suggests that the feedback effect, if any, will be negative. Meaning that increases in carbon dioxide and temprature should result in a decrease of both.

The debate that followed was unfortunately very one-sided, with Dr. Lindzen dominating all of the questions and giving Dr. North--who was more polite but seemed reluctant to stand his ground on any of his major points--little opportunity to give his perspective.

Lindzen was also quite dismissive of many concerns by members of the audience, such as the plight of polar bears which are thought to be threatened by the decrease in polar ice which they depend on.

Lindzen dismissed the threat to polar bears as, "made up out of pure cloth."

Nevertheless, the debate was interesting because it made it quite clear that the real debate among climate scientists--which is often portrayed in the media as being about whether or not global warming is happening and whether humans are contributing--is more about the details of what the models and the data predict. Both experts agreed that the earth is warming and that humans are at least partly responsible.

The problem for the media, I guess, is that such academic disagreements on complicated topics generally make for dull stories.

Photo by Arne Naevra

Unlocking the molecular secrets of echolocation

2010-01-26T18:14:00.006-06:00

Bats navigate through the air using sophisticated echolocation, allowing them to "see" at night as well as deep inside the darkest caverns. In a similar way, dolphins use a form of sonar that complements their vision, allowing them to perceive the underwater world in a way that is difficult for us to imagine.

Because bats and dolphins are distantly related mammals, they evolved their amazing sensory perceptions independently. To put it another way, the common ancestor of bats and mammals (whatever it was) did not have any type of echolocation or sonar, so this amazing ability evolved twice in the lineages that led up to bats and dolphins, converging independently on a similar mechanism.

Although this pattern, known as convergent or parallel evolution, has been recognized and well documented, a new study study using DNA sequences from bats and dolphins found that the similarities go even deeper.

Reporting in the journal Current Biology, Yang Liu and colleagues found molecular evidence that one of the genes that bats and dolphins use for echolocation has undergone similar mutations and are now more similar to each other than they are to other mammals.

The gene--called Prestin--codes for a protein that plays a role in the outer hair cells within the mammal auditory system. The researchers believe that the gene has been modified in a similar way in bats and dolphins to make them more sensitive--allowing them to use sound waves to navigate.

The authors also showed that the similarity in DNA sequence could not be due to chance but is a direct result of natural selection. Although mutations are essentially random, some mutations cause changes is the protein made by a gene while other mutations do not. The DNA sequence examined by Liu and colleagues contained significantly fewer changes that had an effect on the protein coded by the gene than would be expected by chance. This means that natural selection has removed the mutations that caused changes but left the "silent" mutations that caused no changes.

Photos from Wikipedia

Darwin movie released today

2010-01-22T13:51:00.006-06:00

There is a new movie out today about Charles Darwin. Defiantly entitled Creation, the film is said to chronicle the later year's of the naturalist's life as he developed his theory of evolution by natural selection and as he struggled over whether--and when--to publish it.

Click here to watch the trailer.

The film stars Paul Bettany (The DaVinci Code, A Beautiful Mind) as Darwin and Academy Award winner Jennifer Connelly (Blood Diamond, A Beautiful Mind) as Charles' wife, Emma.

Wired.com has an article that includes an interview with director Jon Amiel, in which he explains why his film is decidedly not simply an educational "biopic", but details Darwin's personal life, including struggles over his theories with his pious wife and his sorrows over the death of his children.

I have not yet seen it but will certainly share my thoughts about it once I do.

Image from http://www.creationthemovie.com/photos

Are women more "ape-like" than men?

2010-01-14T18:58:00.004-06:00

HOUSTON, TX-- You may have heard that we humans share 98% of our DNA with chimpanzees. A recent study seems to suggest that this may be more true for women than for men.

The study by Jennifer Hughes and colleagues investigated genes on the Y chromosome in chimpanzees, which until now had been largely overlooked by recent genome sequencing efforts. They discovered that, when compared with the human Y chromosome (which only males have), the genes on human and chimp Y chromosomes are less than 70% identical.

While this may at first glance seem to suggest that human females are more closely related to chimps than are human men, this is not the case. Because human males and females are both members of the same species, their evolution is not independent of each other. Although certain parts of the genome-- such as the Y chromosome in males--can evolve independently in one sex than in the other, there are limits to how different they can become.

In fact every single gene has its own unique evolutionary history, and the evolution of any particular species can be thought of as a product of the evolution of each of its constituent genes.

The study by Hughes et al. reminds us how misleading it could be to treat the evolution of a single gene or even an entire chromosome as a proxy for the evolution of the species from which it was obtained.

It also reminds us, perhaps, that men aren't necessarily as ape-like as we sometimes seem.

Chimpanzee photo from Wikipedia

Should we let Pandas go extinct?

2009-12-05T10:16:00.006-06:00

HOUSTON, TX-- Naturalist and photographer Chris Packham made headlines recently when he suggested that it might be more productive to allow critically endangered species like the Giant Panda to go extinct and focus instead on preserving intact habitats.

Not surprisingly, his comments have drawn criticism from panda-lovers worldwide, but they have also highlighted a fundamental debate in the field of conservation biology. At issue is whether conservation efforts should be focused on individual species, like pandas and polar bears, or whether entire, intact habitats should be the priority.

The single-species approach is effective, the argument goes, because people are more likely to be sympathetic towards the plight of species that they love-- and who doesn't love pandas? The Endangered Species Act of 1973 was designed around the assumption that focusing on individual species like the panda will have broader impacts on other species that occur in the same habitat.

But an issue that is often overlooked is the fundamental difference between conserving a species in the wild versus simply keeping it alive in captivity. Remove an organism from its natural environment and you lose virtually all information about its ecology-- its interactions with the living and non-living environment.

Ideally we would preserve examples of each species in living collections (zoos) and non-living collections (museums) while simultaneously preserving populations in their natural habitats. As the latter part of this "perfect world" scenario becomes less and less feasible, we as a global society will be faced with some very tough decisions.

On a positive note, however, Jane Goodall (of chimpanzee fame) recently published a book entitled, "Hope for Animals and their World" in which she recounts numerous conservation success stories.

Its a good thing, because if Pandas go extinct, the WWF will need to find a new logo and URL (http://www.panda.org).

Panda photograph from Wikipedia

Ants can count!

2009-11-27T12:12:00.004-06:00

Most ants use chemical cues known as pheromones to find their way home, like leaving a trail of cookie crumbs. But what happens when they live in an environment where pheromones get blown away, like in the shifting sands of the desert?

An elegant study by Harald Wolf and Matthias Whittlinger suggests that some ants in the Sahara solve this dilemma by counting the number of steps they take on their way out, then taking the same number of steps on their way home.

Click here to watch a great video animation about this study by master science journalist Robert Krulwich.

Photo copyright Science magazine

Not all bacteria are germs

2009-11-25T10:28:00.005-06:00

HOUSTON, TX—A balanced diet is important for all animals. When a critical nutrient is lacking—such as salt in the case of many herbivores that consume only saltless plants—they must somehow seek out the missing ingredient (thus the importance of “salt licks”).

One of the more invaluable nutrients is nitrogen, which is required for all life. Despite the fact that there is plenty of nitrogen in the air (about 78% of air is nitrogen), most organisms cannot use this form of nitrogen directly. It must be somehow transformed into a more accessible form, though this process is not thought to be common in nature.

Last week, a study by Adrian Pinto-Tomas and colleagues demonstrated that leafcutter ants, which consume a fungus that they cultivate as their primary food source, take advantage of bacteria that can transform nitrogen in the atmosphere into a form that can be directly consumed by the ants.

Bacteria are well-known as nitrogen-fixers, as the process is called. However, this study was the first to show that the bacteria, which normally exist inside the organism’s body (in the gut in the case of animals like termites or in root nodules in the case of some plants) can live on the outside—in this case within the fungus garden tended by the ants—and still make a major contribution to an organisms’ diet.

The authors demonstrated that the ants are incorporating nitrogen that was fixed by bacteria using a series of experiments. First, they measured the amount of nitrogen present in the ants, the fungus garden, the leaves the ants bring into the nest to feed to the fungus garden, the developing ant brood (larvae and pupae), and the garbage dump (where the ants take the fungus that has been used up). They found that the highest levels of nitrogen were in the ants—both adult worker ants and the young brood—whereas the leaves and the fungus garden had significantly less nitrogen.

Graphs showing (C) the relative concentration of nitrogen in different parts of the ant nest and (D) the activity levels of an enzyme that indicates nitrogen fixing activity
Next, they measured the amount of nitrogen being “fixed” by examining the acetylene reduction activity – an indication that nitrogen enrichment is taking place. The only part of the nest where the acetylene reduction activity levels were high was in the fungus garden, suggesting that this is where the bacteria responsible for nitrogen fixation exist.

To really drive home their point, the authors then placed living leafcutter ant nests inside airtight chambers and pumped in air that contained a special mixture of nitrogen and oxygen, including a version of nitrogen—15N2—that could be traced as it moved through the system. Two weeks later, this special nitrogen (which is not normally common in air) could be detected in the fungus garden and the worker ants.

Experimental setup for measuring the flow of nitrogen through a leafcutter ant nest
Lastly, the authors were able to determine exactly which bacteria are actually in the fungus garden fixing nitrogen. The primary bacteria identified are in the genus Klebsiella and appear to fall into two evolutionarily distinct groups that do not correspond to the two major groups of leafcutter ants (Atta and Acromyrmex).

It remains to be seen whether other fungus-growing ants also have nitrogen fixing bacteria in their fungus gardens, but those that rely less of leaves as the substrate of choice for growing their fungi would be expected to depend less on other nitrogen sources. Nevertheless, the intricate and fascinating interactions between fungus-growing ants, the fungi they grow for food, and the other microbes with which they associate continues to amaze us with its complexity.

Reference:

Pinto-Tomás et al. Symbiotic Nitrogen Fixation in the Fungus Gardens of Leaf-Cutter Ants Science 20 November 2009: 1120-1123. DOI: 10.1126/science.1173036

Science Cafes

2009-11-13T10:32:00.003-06:00

HOUSTON, TX-- On a recent flight, I was flipping through the in-flight magazine and came across an article that caught my attention. It was about a new phenomenon that began in Europe and has since started to catch on in the US. Unlike some recent Euro-trends, this one has nothing to do with capri pants or lattes.

The phenomenon is what is called a "Science Café" and the basic idea is to have regular, informal meetings between scientists and the general public. According to the website ScienceCafes.org:

"A science café's casual meeting place, plain language, and inclusive conversation create a welcoming and comfortable atmosphere for people with no science background. Each meeting is organized around an interesting topic of conversation. A scientist gives a brief presentation and sometimes shows a short video clip to kick off the discussion."

This struck me as a fantastic idea that could really help bridge the gap between what is often perceived as the mysterious world of research science and the folks out there who are interested in scientific topics but don't happen to have an affiliation with a university, museum, or research center.

What I especially like about this movement is the emphasis on keeping things very laid back, in part by meeting at a local pub. Not surprisingly, people are less intimidated about science, and more likely to ask questions, while sipping a beer or a glass of wine than they would be sitting in a lecture hall. And based on personal experience, its not too hard to convince scientists to come and give a talk if you offer to buy them a pint.

ScienceCafés.org provides information about existing Science Cafés (which often go by other names, such as "Science on Tap") as well as information about how to start a new one.

Apparently there is (or was?) a Science Café here in Houston, but I have so far not been able to get any information about it. If anyone out there knows anything about this organization, please let me know.

Otherwise, perhaps we should get one started...

Watch leafcutter ants live!

2009-10-30T12:18:00.004-05:00

Click here to watch a live video feed from a laboratory colony of Atta cephalotes leafcutter ants at the Smithsonian's Ant Lab.

The worker ants in a leafcutter colony come in all different sizes, and each size (called a caste) has a different task to perform. You can watch the foraging workers carrying leaves into the nest where they are transferred to smaller workers who chew them into smaller fragments that can then be placed on the fungus garden. The fungus, which looks like a gray sponge, is the colony's primary food source, and the ants use the leaves to keep it alive. In a way, the fungus acts like the ants' digestive system, since they cannot digest the leaves themselves. The fungus-growing ants are one of the classic examples of a mutualism, whereby two species interact in a way that is beneficial to both.

Don't Know Much About History

2009-07-24T08:00:00.012-05:00

WASHINGTON, D.C.-- Yesterday, while strolling through the exhibits in the Natural History Museum, I overheard the following conversation:

WOMAN: "What is that?" (pointing at a fossil skeleton of a saber-toothed cat)

MAN: "You mean that small dinosaur?" (indicating the same fossil)

How can someone possibly confuse a saber-toothed cat (a mammal that lived around 20 thousand years ago) with a dinosaur (reptiles that died out 65 million years ago)???? Sadly, I have heard this type of mistake, in which all extinct animals are lumped together in the same category, as if they all lived together at the same time, quite often.

It seems that many folks have difficulty distinguishing between the relatively recent past (i.e. thousands of years ago) with the distant past (millions to billions of years ago). Granted, from our perspective, in which a human lifetime lasts a hundred years at most, it all seems to have been distant past. A thousand years ago is a long time in human history, and ten thousand years goes back to the dawn of human agriculture and the very early shift towards civilization.

But there is a massive difference between these thousands of years ago and millions. We're talking orders of magnitude here.

Change years to dollars and it's a little easier to comprehend what I mean. The difference between 10,000 years ago (when saber-toothed cats lived) and 100 million years ago (when dinosaurs lived) is like the difference between making $10,000 (ten thousand dollars) a year versus $100,000,000 (one hundred million dollars) a year. See what I mean?

I can't help but feel that part of the blame lies with popular movies such as Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs. I must admit that I have not yet seen this movie, so my commentary on it is probably somewhat unfair given that all I know about the movie is what I saw in the preview. But as far as I understand it, the movie involves animals from the Ice Age interacting with dinosaurs. This never happened in the history of the earth, because these time periods were separated by MILLIONS of years.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoy movies like Ice Age and I loved Jurassic Park, in which dinosaurs were brought back to life through genetic engineering. In many ways, these types of movies bring to our attention the diverse life forms that once existed on our planet and have since gone extinct. How many people knew about ground sloths (that's the character Sid) before the Ice Age movies? Even if he's not exactly anatomically correct (see fossil reconstruction below), at least more people today are aware that there was such a thing as a ground sloth.

There have been plenty of movies, books, and TV shows where people are living with dinosaurs (think about the Flintstones). Since humans evolved no earlier than about 5 million years ago (at least that's when our lineage diverged from chimpanzees) and dinosaurs were gone by 65 milion years ago, there was obviously no way for this to have actually happened without the use of a time machine or some crafty cloning technology.

This doesn't mean that humans did not live at the same time and place as some pretty amazing animals that are now extinct. Woolly mammoths, cave bears, and an enormous komodo-dragon-like lizard in Australia were once either on the dinner menu for early humans or the other way around. Just not dinosaurs.

So remember: pre-historic mammals are not dinosaurs, even if all we see of them today is a reconstructed skeleton in a museum. I doubt you would make the same mistake if you were staring at the face a living saber-toothed cat and a living T-rex side-by-side.

But that, of course, would be impossible.

Are people sick of nature?

2009-07-01T07:51:00.005-05:00

BALTIMORE, MD-- A recent study suggested that there has been a steady per capita decrease in visits to parks and other natural areas by Americans (as well as Japanese and Spaniards) over the last 20 years. In addition to being a generally sad phenomenon, some have speculated that this trend could have negative consequences for nature conservation, since, as the logic goes, people will be less interested in preserving nature if they have less experience with it.

Not to fear, say the authors of a paper published today by Andrew Balmford and colleagues in the online journal PLoS Biology. Although there has indeed been a decline in visits to protected areas in the USA and Japan, say the authors, visits to protected areas worldwide have actually been increasing.

These data suggest the trend in total visits to protected areas (A) and per-capita visits to protected areas (B) is negative in North America but positive everywhere else

It is unknown whether the visitors to protected areas outside of North America are from the country in which the park is located or from abroad, although two lines of evidence suggest that they are likely to be outsiders. First, the increase in visitation is correlated to an increase in foreign arrivals. Second, visitation to protected areas is negatively correlated with the wealth of the nation in which the park occurs. In other words, the poorer a country is, the more visits its parks receive. Although this may seem puzzling at first, I am not surprised by this finding given that many of the world's most spectacular natural areas--and certainly the regions with highest biodiversity--are located in developing countries. (For a possible explanation for why this is true, see Jared Diamond's eye-opening book, Guns, Germs, and Steel)

Refreshingly, this study suggests that people are not generally sick of nature. Instead, it seems to show that people are willing to travel overseas, often to developing countries, to see nature and wildlife. I would say that this bodes well for the importance that people place in nature and protected areas.

It will be interesting to see whether these trends continue given the current economic climate. There are still plenty of amazing natural areas out there, many of them just a short drive away...

Traffic Lessons from Ants and Physicists

2009-06-29T15:04:00.004-05:00

BALTIMORE, MD-- A recent article in Seed suggests a few lessons about the flow of traffic that may be discerned from two seemingly unconnected branches of science: particle physics and myrmecology (the study of ants).

On the physics of traffic, Jonah Lehrer writes,

"Tom Vanderbilt, in his authoritative book Traffic, describes a simple experiment performed by the Washington Department of Transportation that involved a liter of rice, a plastic funnel, and a glass beaker. When the rice was poured into the beaker all at once, it took 40 seconds for the funnel to empty; the density of jostling grains impeded the flow. However, when the grains were poured in a gradual stream, it took only 27 seconds for the rice to pass through. What seemed slower actually turned out to be 30 percent faster."

...and the ant solution:

"Dirk Helbing, a “congestion expert” at the Dresden University of Technology, constructed a network of “carriageways” between an ant nest and a source of sugar. Within a few hours, the ants located the most direct route to the sugar, which became dense with hungry insects...Helbing discovered that just as the carriageway approached its breaking point, ant “traffic cops” physically blocked the road. This forced the ants to find another route to the sugar, and thus prevented a traffic jam."

Science blogging vs. Peer-review

2009-06-25T14:04:00.002-05:00

BALTIMORE, MD-- Alex Wild over at Myrmecos has started a discussion about a very interesting topic for us blogging scientists: what impact can sharing one's scientific opinions on a blog affect their scientific career?

As Alex himself points out, and as several followers have subsequently commented, blogging is not a replacement for the peer-review process. I doubt that any scientists who are active bloggers think of their websites as substitutes for peer-reviewed journals.

Nevertheless, I agree that putting your ideas out on the web could have potentially negative consequences for one's reputation as a scientist. But the flip side to that point is that it could also improve your reputation as a scientist, writer, photographer, etc.

Plus, in my opinion, blogging is a far better way to get information about science out to non-scientists than perhaps any other media that I am aware of. And this point alone makes it worth while to keep writing about science, sharing your opinion, and getting folks excited about what we do as scientists.

On the radio

2009-06-16T15:38:00.004-05:00

BALTIMORE, MD-- I'll be interviewed on the radio tonight, along with my labmate Natasha Mehdiabadi. If you happen to be near Fairfax, Virginia this evening, tune in to WEBR from 8-9 PM. Otherwise you can listen live via the internet at http://www.fcac.org/webr/ (click on "Listen Now").

Have a question or wanna give us a shout out? Call the station at (703) 560-TALK.

My Fifteen Minutes

2009-06-10T12:05:00.004-05:00

WASHINGTON, DC-- Andy Warhol famously stated that everyone gets fifteen minutes of fame. In the modern world of blogging, this can be literally true.

"The Ant Hunter" was recently featured in Smithsonian.com's "Around the Mall" blog:

http://blogs.smithsonianmag.com/aroundthemall/2009/06/scott-solomon-is-the-ant-hunter/

Thanks to my advisor Ted Schultz for mentioning me and my blog to a Smithsonian Magazine editor and to writer Joe Caputo for penning the flattering article. Thanks also to lots of loyal Ant Hunter fans for all your kind words of support!

This kind of recognition certainly inspires me to continue writing here at The Ant Hunter, so stay tuned for more ant adventures coming soon...

New Ant Exhibit Opening This Weekend

2009-05-27T21:01:00.004-05:00

BALTIMORE, MD-- The Smithsonian's National Museum of Natural History will be opening a new exhibit this weekend, and its all about ants!

The exhibit will be called "Farmers, Warriors, Builders: The Hidden Life of Ants" and is centered around spectacular photos by ant researcher and photographer Mark Moffitt. The exhibit will also contain a metal cast of an ant nest made by Florida State University's Walter Tshinkel, a portrait of famed ant biologist E.O. Wilson, and a live leafcutter ant colony.

This Saturday, May 30, we will be celebrating the opening of the new exhibit with a family friendly festival from 1-4 pm. Come and check it out!

Brazil's Other Rainforest

2009-04-20T09:21:00.012-05:00

SERRA BONITA, BAHIA, BRAZIL—Brazil is home to the one of the most diverse and critically threatened tropical rainforests in the world—and it’s not the Amazon.

The Atlantic Coast Forest, as it’s name suggests, stretches along the coast of South America from the easternmost tip of the continent south to the northern tip of Argentina.

This forest was once home to a rich assemblage of flora and fauna that may have rivaled the Amazon in terms of species diversity, but was mostly destroyed before proper inventories could be completed. Whereas the Amazon rainforest has become the poster child for conservation efforts, large expanses of it are still intact. In contrast, only 6-7% of Brazil’s Atlantic Coastal Forest remains.

In part, the devastation of the Atlantic Coast forest is due to the fact that two of the largest cities in the world—Sao Paulo and Rio de Janeiro—lie smack in the middle of this rich habitat. In fact, most of the population of Brazil lives in or near an area that is (or was) Atlantic Coast forest.

For the final expedition of my current project, I spent the month of March traveling with three colleagues along most of what is left of the Atlantic Coast Forest. I joined Cauê, Jeffrey, and Ted in Rio Claro on March 1 and we set out to hunt the ants of this biodiversity hotspot.

Our first stop was Blumenau, in the southern state of Santa Catarina. Bluemenau is famous for its German heritage, which it flaunts during its annual Oktoberfest celebration, an extravaganza which I’m told is second only to Rio’s Carnaval as the largest street party in Brazil. Even though it wasn’t October, we paid our homage to the German immigrants by sampling some of the local beer straight from the source at the Eisenbahn brewery. For years I have been saying that Brazil could benefit from at least one beer that is not a replica of Bud Light—and I finally found it. Now if only this trend would catch on around the country…

We found a private reserve in the mountains just outside Blumenau that had some beautiful forest. We spent half a day walking along the trails, but unfortunately found only a few of the ants we were looking for.

Continuing south through Santa Catarina, our next stop was the island of Florianopolis. I had been there a year ago with Catharina, her sister, and cousin, at which time I scouted out a place that seemed promising for collecting ants. So we spent several days working on and near the beach, managing to adapt to wearing shorts and sandals for fieldwork. Unfortunately, I spent the better part of our stay in Florianopolis recovering from an encounter with a questionable oyster.

Our next stop was the southern edge of the Atlantic Forest, in Brazil’s southernmost state, Rio Grande do Sul. More so even than in Blumenau, the influence of immigrants from Germany, Italy, and Switzerland is far from subtle in the town of Gramado. With its European-style architecture, shops and restaurants featuring chocolate, fondue, and locally produced wine, Gramado feels like more like a Swiss ski resort in the Alps than a Brazilian town.

We found a nearby park with good, intact forest and were granted access to collect ants, so we spent several days in the region. The park is called Parque da Ferradura, or “Horseshoe Park” for the shape of the bend on the river that forms a picturesque canyon draped in araucaria trees, an endemic pine that is shaped like a candelabra.

From Gramado we began a long overland journey that would take us nearly the entire length of the Atlantic Coast Forest. We drove for four and half days, stopping along the way in Curitiba, São Paulo, Belo Horizonte, and a small town in southern Bahia before finally reaching Serra Bonita Reserve, our next—and final—collecting spot for this trip, and, in fact, this project.

Serra Bonita is a private reserve owned by Vitor Becker, a retired Brazilian biologist who spent his life savings creating a biologist’s dream-come-true. We met Vitor at a gas station in the town of Camacan, where, over a lunch of grilled meat and cold beer, he told his the story of how he built the reserve.Vitor had spent his life working for Embrapa, the Brazilian federal agricultural research agency, based in Brasilia. His area of expertise was moths—specifically the very tiny ones, known as “microlepidoptera.” For his research, he had traveled extensively throughout Brazil and the rest of Latin America, collecting moths. He had always dreamed of spending his golden years living in some out of the way place, where the moths were plentiful and he could pursue his work in peace.

When the time came for Vitor to retire, he decided to make his dream a reality by purchasing a piece of land that he would develop into a reserve. That way he—and any other biologists who were interested—could work in the area with the guarantee that it would be protected from the continuous threats faced by all tropical habitats. The decision of which habitat to select was easy—by far the highest priority from a conservation perspective was the Atlantic Coast Forest. But which area specifically?

Vitor is a native of Santa Catarina, and he grew up near Blumenau, where we had recently visited. So his first inclination was to find a patch of forest in that part of the country. But, Vitor explained, his wife, who grew up in the hot, steamy northern part of Brazil, does not particularly enjoy the cooler climate that they would encounter in the south.

Vitor remembered collecting moths on some mountains in southern Bahia that had a unique type of forest, different from the lowland jungle closer to the coast, and packed with interesting species of insects. The area had once experienced a booming economy based on growing cocoa, which flourished in the warm, wet climate. However, a fungal disease known as "Witch’s Broom" attacked the crops in the 1980s and wiped out the entire industry.

The upshot, for Vitor, was that land became cheap. He began purchasing at the top of the mountain, which still contained some virgin forest, and gradually expanded his holdings by buying abandoned cocoa farms down towards the lowlands. To encourage investors, he created a conservation-oriented NGO, and began construction of a research station.

Today, Reserva Serra Bonita is a 4,446 acre natural wonderland, complete with a spectacular visitor’s center and first-class housing facilities for around 25 visitors. In addition to a small laboratory, permanent traps to collect flying insects, and wireless internet, the station features Vitor’s private insect collection, a stunning affair housed in custom-built Spanish oak drawers that rivals those of most major museums and universities worldwide. The place is, in short, an entomologist’s dream.

We spent nearly a week at Serra Bonita, hiking daily through the cloud forest hunting for ants. We found relatively few of the species we were after, but some of the ones we found may turn out to be very interesting.

As we worked, the station’s pet tayra (like a terrestrial otter, as Vitor put it) kept us company. He would follow us on our walks through the forest, climbing trees, and sneaking up behind us when we weren’t looking. He was very playful and somewhat mischievous, like a puppy.

I had another encounter with a venomous snake—the same species, I believe, as we had seen near Manaus in January. This time, however, instead of noticing the snake and backing away, I didn’t see it until it tried to bite me. Fortunately, I was wearing rubber boots that protect my feet and lower legs, since the snake struck me just above the ankle. After checking to ensure that its fangs had not penetrated the rubber, I snapped this shot:

Leaving Serra Bonita was bittersweet. It marked the end of our journey across Brazil’s spectacular Atlantic Coast Forest, but it was wonderful to know that such a beautiful piece of it would be there next time we—or anyone else—wanted to visit.

It also marked the end of my travels in Brazil, since the collecting phase of our project was coming to a close. We have collected ants in every major habitat type in Brazil, traveling over 12,000 miles in the last seven months alone. It has been a fantastic experience, and promises to result in some very interesting data.

For now, it’s time to head back home and begin the next phase: sorting through and analyzing all the ants we’ve collected over the past year…

Catching Up

2009-04-20T09:20:00.001-05:00

I've fallen a bit behind in my blog posts, so this is my attempt to catch up. The next couple of blogs cover the past month and half.

How timely...

2009-02-24T07:59:00.002-06:00

I saw this poster on The Evilutionary Biologist blog

Like this design? Order your T-shirts here

Darwin turns 200

2009-02-13T09:16:00.003-06:00

BALTIMORE, MD--Yesterday marked the 200th anniversary of the birth of Charles Darwin. Many celebrations were held around the world, ranging from lectures and debates about the veracity of Darwin's theory to parties, festivals and other celebrations.

Click here to watch a 200th Birthday tribute from some of Darwin's biggest fans.

I celebrated "Darwin Day" by attending some talks held at the National Museum of Natural History that were organized primarily for DC-area high school students. Donald Johanson, co-discoverer of the famous Lucy fossil, gave a great talk about the fossil evidence for human evolution.

The high school students were a great audience, and there was an interesting, if slightly uncomfortable moment at the beginning of his talk in which he asked,

"How many of you believe in evolution?"

The majority of people raised their hands.

"then you may be surprised to know that I don't," he continued.

A small but very vocal minority began to applaud loudly, before they were silenced by his next statement.

"...any more than I believe in gravity."

Other talks covered subjects ranging from the evolution of dinosaurs into birds by Matthew Carrano to the use of evolutionary theory in modern medicine by Francis Collins.

This year also marks the 150th anniversary of the publication of Darwin's "On the Origin of Species." Its amazing to think about how long this idea has been out there, how well supported it is by all the evidence that science has accumulated over the years, and how many people still think it's "just a theory."

Do you love Lucy?

2009-02-08T08:48:00.003-06:00

Click here to read my article in Wired.com on the use of high resolution CT scanning to look inside the ancient bones of Lucy, the famous fossil hominid.

The Amazon

2009-01-22T16:53:00.009-06:00

MANAUS, BRAZIL-- It's never a good sign when your taxi driver prefaces his traffic maneuvers by saying, "Do you believe in god?"

It was 8:45 in the morning in Manaus, capital of the Brazilian state of Amazonas, and we were late. Caue and I had both arrived the previous day to the steamy and chaotic city, the largest in all of the Amazon. We had left the hotel at 8 AM, plenty of time to get to our destination--which is normally only ten minutes away--by our 8:30 deadline. But then we hit the traffic.

We spent nearly an hour stuck in the same spot, due to an accident involving a truck at one of Manaus' largest traffic circles, shutting down the roadways in all directions. Our cab driver knew of our predicament--that we would miss our ride to the field station if we arrived later than 8:30 (this much had been made abundantly clear), so now he was trying to make for lost time by pulling some iffy maneuvers.

We finally pulled up to the office of the Institute for Amazonian Research, known as INPA, around 9:15, only to discover that it was not the correct location!. The INPA campus we needed, the security guard explained to our disbelief, is back in the direction we had just come from.

Surely, we thought, we had missed our ride.

But the guard radioed over to the correct INPA campus and informed us that the truck was still there, so we were off--back into the honking, chaotic gridlock. An hour or so later, Caue and I were in a beat-up old 4-wheel-drive Toyota, along with our mountainous pile of gear, heading out of the urban jungle and into the real one.

Along the way, our driver told us how an American who was working in the very camp we were headed to was just released from the hospital after being treated for a snake bite. It turns out our driver had physically carried the guy, who was apparently quite large, from the site where he was bitten along a long forest trail and out to the road, then drove him to the hospital a couple of hours away in Manaus. The guy, according to our driver, had been screaming and crying the whole way.

And a long way it was. The camp where we would spend the next five days is known as "Kilometer 41," for the simple reason that is located 41 kilometers along an incredibly rough dirt road that provides the only access. It's part of a series of research stations run by INPA as a long-term project known by the acronym "PDBFF," or the "Biological Dynamics of Forest Fragmentation Project." Essentially the idea is to monitor what happens to a rainforest after it is divided up into isolated fragments, as is increasingly occurring.

So they did a large census of everything (as best they could) that lived in the forest, then wiped out large sections, leaving a patchwork of habitat islands of various sizes. The smallest fragment is 1 hectare (about the size of a football field), and the largest are 1000 hectares.

Kilometer 41 camp is not located near a fragment, however. It is located in the middle of what they call a continuous forest--in other words, a very, very large piece of jungle. And we would be living in the middle of it.

The driver dropped us off and we were left to drag our ridiculous load of luggage down the muddy, uneven trail that led to the camp. It took several trips to get all our stuff to the camp, and by the end we were soaking in sweat. We would pretty much stay that way for the next two weeks.

The camp was simple and rustic. There were three buildings: a kitchen and dining area, a "bedroom" area to hang your hammock, and a simple structure designated as a lab. All of the buildings had the same basic architecture-- a metal roof supported by vertical poles, but no walls. There were only two buildings with walls: a bathroom (with 2 flush toilets) and a separate building for (cold) showers.

We had a guide named Junior that spent the first two days with us to get us oriented. He took us for a walk that first afternoon to show us how the trail system worked. It was laid out in a grid, he explained, so you can never get lost. The trails are marked with letters going this way, and numbers going that way, he said. The camp, you musn't forget, is at L4.

It was during that first orientation hike that we saw our first snake. I had bent over to inspect what looked like an ant nest, when I suddenly (and fortunately) realized that there was a brown and black viper coiled up right in front of the nest. It followed my motion with its head, flicking its tongue into the air, trying to sniff me.

Junior identified the snake: "Jararaca," as it's known in Portuguese, otherwise known as a "Fer-de-lance," (genus Bothrops) the most dangerous snake in South America. It's also the same species that bit the American just a few days ago.

It was the first of five snakes I would see during our two weeks in the field. Once, as Junior unrolled the tarps that serve as makeshift walls during heavy rains, a snake fell out of the tarp, bounced off of his chest, and landed on a nearby table. It was a Boa, about 3 feet long.

Another time a coral snake slithered across the trail right in front of me as I made my way back to camp in the late afternoon.

But by far the most unbelievable wildlife encounter we had on the trip happened on the road, as we drove from Kilometer 41 to our second field camp, Dimona. Jeffrey was sitting in the front seat with the driver, while Caue, Junior, and I were crammed into the backseat. Suddenly the driver screamed, "Onça!!" and pointed up the road ahead.

A jaguar had just crossed the road.

The most incredible part, at least to me, was that I missed it. I had been looking forward at the road but my eyes had temporarily been focused on the route our driver was using to navigate over the rough terrain. I missed perhaps my only chance to see one of the rarest and most difficult to spot large mammals on earth.

Although I missed the jaguar, we did find an incredible number of ants. The species we were looking for (in the genus Trachymyrmex) seemed to be everywhere--in rotten logs, in the leaflitter, in underground nests marked by huge towers of excavated clay.

Ants are great, but it sure would have been nice to see that jaguar...

Caatinga

2008-11-15T05:31:00.009-06:00

RIO CLARO, SAO PAULO, BRAZIL-- For those of you who think that the field work I do is like a vacation, just leisurely travel and comfortable conditions, imagine the following.

You are working in the baking heat, scrambling through scrubby vegetation covered in thorns. Everything you touch cuts or scratches you. The ground is crawling with things that sting or bite-- scorpions, huge spiders, centipedes, giant ants. There are probably snakes out there too. You have to make your way through this maze of cactus and thorny trees in order to find some tiny, slow-moving ants that blend easily into the background, making them hard to see. Once you find them, you will have to dig through the hard, rocky soil, maybe several feet or more, in order to find their nest.

Now imagine doing all this at night.

Such were the working conditions at our next field site, in the state of Pernambuco. We were smack in the middle of the desert-like habitat known as caatinga, an environment that exists only in Brazil.

We were fortunate to be able to stay at a field station run by the Federal Rural University of Pernambuco, on the edge of a small town called Parnamirim. We had a house to ourselves, with several bedrooms, bathrooms, and a small communal area. There was even a refrigerator, but no kitchen or any place to cook. As a result, our breakfast consisted of cold instant coffee and some crackers. For meals, we would go to the only real restaurant in town-- a truck stop on the highway that served grilled goat.

Ironically, we woke up the first morning to find that an infestation of army ants had overtaken the bedroom and part of the living room. Fortunately, they had not bothered us in our sleep, but the bedposts on my bed were teeming with blind, reddish orange ants running frantically with their mandbibles open, sensing our presence with their waving antennae.

We were forced to move to a different bedroom, which was a good thing because in the days to come the ants would completely overrun the bed I slept in that first night.

The advantage to working at night was that it was not as hot as during the day-- a cool, refreshing 96 or 97 as opposed to the 100-plus degree intensity of daytime. Also, not surprisingly, this is when all the ants come out. Unfortunately, this is when all the other creepy-crawlies come out too, and we saw our fair share of them.

We spent three nights in the field, staying out as late as 2 AM. In the end, I didn't find any of the ants I was looking for. We did find a few other interesting things, and we conducted the usual survey that will provide an interesting comparison of the ant species in this habitat compared with the others we visit.

At the end of our time in the caatinga, however, I was ready for a real vacation.

2008-11-11T17:06:00.011-06:00

LENÇOIS, BAHIA, BRAZIL-- After surviving the heat in the Jalapão region, we continued east into the arid interior of northeastern Brazil. Along the way to our next field site, we stopped to spend a day in a little-known, yet fascinating place called Pedra Furada.

Located in Serra da Capivara National Park in the state of Piaui, Pedra Furada may be the most important archeological site in the entire New World.

Our guide (required to enter the park) led us to several towering rock cliffs, each of which was covered with rust-colored paintings of people and animals. These petroglyphs, our guide explained, are more than 9,000 years old.

But as ancient as that sounds, the rock paintings are a relatively recent addition to Pedra Furada.

Our guide, a local archeology student, pointed out an area beneath an overhanging cliff ledge that had been carefully excavated. At that spot, where the rock meets the soil, archeologists had discovered charred wood surrounded by a circle of stones-- clear evidence for a fire pit.

But the real surprise came when they estimated the age of the charcoal from the fire pit-- it was approximately 48,000 years old.

For perspective, the Americas were completely devoid of any humans until about 10,000-20,000 years ago, when the first people were thought to have arrived in North America from Siberia by crossing the landbridge that then spanned the Bering Strait. These early settlers, known as Clovis people based on a distinctive type of stone tool they used, made their way south, leaving descendants throughout North, Central, and eventually South America.

So the discovery of a fire pit at Pedra Furada dating to 48,000 years ago (48 kya) suggests that people were living in the middle of South America more than 20,000 years before anyone was thought to have set foot anywhere in the Americas.

There are, however, some critics of the evidence for humans at Pedra Furada at 48 kya. First, some claim that the fire may not have been man-made-- the charcoal could have been from a forest fire. Our guide showed us that the entire area around the fire pit was excavated, and they found no signs of fire outside of the ring of stones. Also, I noticed that the spot where the fire pit was found was located almost exactly beneath the edge of the overhanging cliff-- exactly where you would want to put a fire to avoid filling the shelter with smoke but also to protect it from the rain.

Another criticism-- one that really poses a problem for the proponents of Pedra Furada as a human habitation at 48 kya-- is that there are no other sites that old anywhere else in the Americas. If people made it to Pedra Furada, presumably from Asia but potentially from other areas such as the Pacific Islands, they should have left evidence at other sites.

But archeology is an up-and-coming science in Brazil, as in many parts of Central and South America, so there may be other sites out there as old as Pedra Furada awaiting discovery.

Looks like we need more archeologists...

Jalapão

2008-11-04T12:07:00.006-06:00

“Go to the first gas station in town, and ask for Antonio.”

These were the instructions we received—and the only information we had—for our next field site, deep in the heart of a desolate region of Brazil known as Jalapão. Antonio, the uncle of a friend of a friend of Cauê, would be expecting us, we were told, and he would give us instructions on how to proceed from there to the farm where we would be working.

The town in which this gas station is located, called São Felix do Tocantins, is as remote as any place I have been in Brazil. To get there, Cauê, Jeffrey and I drove north from Rio Claro for two days, along the highway that leads all the way to the city of Belem, at the mouth of the Amazon River. At the end of the second day, we turned off the highway and headed east, crossing the massive Tocantins River and spent the night in Palmas, capital of the state of Tocantins.

The next day we continued east, crossing a scenic mountain range and into the emptiness of the Jalapão region. The area reminded me of parts of the American Southwest, New Mexico perhaps, with scrubby vegetation, flat-topped mountains, and the occasional oddly-shaped red rock formation.

After a rough six hour drive, we pulled into the dusty village of São Felix. There was a gas station immediately to our right, and although it looked deserted, there were a couple of guys sitting on chairs in front of a small building and a fat, shirtless man working under the hood of a rusting semi truck. As instructed, we asked for Antonio, and the guys pointed to the man working on the truck.

Antonio looked surprised when we explained that we were there to work on his farm, and that he was supposedly going to help us out.

“I don’t know anything about it,” he stated, seeming slightly annoyed. “The phone here is not working, so nobody has been able to call me,” he added.

Shocked, confused, and then worried, we scrambled to figure out how to proceed. We had been told that we could stay at the farm, that it would be no problem, and that everything was set for our arrival. Apparently, this was completely untrue.

Antonio explained that the farm was not in any condition to host visitors, that he hadn’t even been there in months. What’s worse, he added, was that the guy who was supposed to look after the farm has not been doing a very good job, and that the owner was coming in two days to see this for himself, which meant that he didn’t even want to fix the place up for us, since the owner needed to see how bad it was.

There was one more problem. We can’t even stay here in town, Antonio explained, because the town in out of water.

--

Despite all of these setbacks, we were eventually able to arrive at a solution that allowed us to salvage the expedition. Antonio said it would be ok if we would worked at the farm, and since it was very close to town, we could in theory stay in São Felix.

There were two small hotels in town, and we were able to book two rooms in the nicer of them. Much to our surprise given the miniscule size of the village and its very basic infrastructure, the hotel had air conditioning and TV! And, most importantly, it had water.

Having AC turned out to be a real life saver because the Jalapão region is brutally hot. On our first day in the field, the temperature was well over 100 degrees, and at one point while I was digging through the baking hot sand, the lighter I had laying on the ground next to me exploded.

We quickly realized that the best way to work in this region is at night. Not only because it was more comfortable for us, but also because that is when all the ants emerge. So we donned our headlamps and adopted a nocturnal lifestyle, chilling out in the hotel by day and searching for ants at night.

In the end, we weren’t sure what to make of Antonio and his dim outlook on our visit. Perhaps he was annoyed that we arrived unannounced, or else maybe he just doesn’t like having visitors. Much of what he told us turned out to be incorrect, since the town did seem to have water (although Coca Cola was hard to find), and the owner of the farm never showed up. Nevertheless, we were able to complete our project there, becoming, as far as we know, the first people to conduct a survey of ants in this remote and beautiful region of Brazil.

The Soccer Mom Caravan

2008-11-03T08:57:00.010-06:00

Part 1: Digging for Gold

After returning from the Pantanal, I had just enough time to stop by Ribeirão Preto to visit Catharina’s grandmother and the rest of her Brazilian family before it was time to begin the next big ant collecting trip. Only this time, Cauê and I would be joined by a team of ant experts: Ted Schultz, my supervisor at the Smithsonian, his doctoral student Jeffrey Sosa, and my former advisor at the University of Texas, Ulrich Mueller.

I picked up Ted from the airport in São Paulo and we spent the night at a nearby hotel, where Jeffrey joined us early the next morning. To accommodate the entire crew, Ted rented another vehicle for the month-long expedition. He had hoped for a 4x4 vehicle of some sort, perhaps a pickup truck, but surprisingly there were none available at any of the São Paulo airport rental agencies. So he settled for the next best thing that would fit several passangers and their numerous and bulky bags: a Volkswagon Zafira minivan.

So we traveled deep into the wild interior of Brazil, not in the rugged offroad vehicles that one might envision when imagining such an expedition, but as a veritable soccer mom caravan—Cauê and I leading the way in our station wagon, and Ted, Jeffrey, and Ulrich following close behind in their minivan.

--

Our first stop was a research station where Cauê conducted his masters research on the effects of fire on interactions between ants and plants. He had gone there several weeks earlier and scouted out a few things that would be of interest to us. Most notably, he managed to find the nest of an ant that is a sort of holy grail for the handful of us in the world who are interested in such things—an ant called Mycetagroicus.

We recently learned, thanks to a study by Ted and a former postdoc in his lab, that this ant is a sort of missing link between the two major groups of ants that we study. One group is the so-called “higher” attines, which grow a special kind of fungus that cannot live anywhere but in the ants’ colonies. The other group is the lower attines, which grow different fungi that are capable of living on their own. The ant that Cauê found—which was only named a few years ago—falls right in between the higher and the lower attines, and no one knows which group it belongs to, in part because no one has ever found the fungus it grows within its nest.

So we set out to find the elusive fungus garden of Mycetagroicus, hoping to become the first humans ever to lay eyes on it. We would then know which group—higher or lower—this ant belongs to, thus shedding light on one of the key evolutionary transitions within this group of ants—the domestication of fungi. But first, we would have to dig.

We arrived at the field station—about an hour’s drive outside Uberlandia, Minas Gerais—eager to see the nest that Cauê had marked, and to see what other interesting species we might find in the rich tropical savanna. Everyone laced up their boots, grabbed their shovels and hit the trail. However, about fifteen minutes after leaving the station, we faced our first setback: torrential rain. Instead of digging for fungi, we found ourselves huddled together under a yellow tarp as the first rains of the season ruined our chances of collecting for the day.

On the second day we faced setback number two. Although many ants could be seen rebuilding their nests from the destruction caused by the storm, the scene was quite different at the nest Cauê had marked—the entrance was completely washed away, and there was no sign of any activity. Without knowing exactly where the nest entrance was, it would be too risky to begin excavating. All we could do is sit and wait for the ants to dig their way out. So we sat and waited, until the rains came again.

Fortunately the skies cleared on the next day, and we managed to discover two more Mycetagroicus nests with active entrances. The excavations began at once--Ulrich at one nest and Ted at the other—the two attine experts on a race to be the first to find attine gold!

By the end of the day, Ulrich had constructed an enormous pit, nearly 10 feet deep, but found on no fungus. Ted and Jeffrey had similar luck.

Ulrich finally gave up on his excavation the following day once the ants’ tunnel seemed to vanish. However, our luck seemed to take a turn for the better when I happened to notice some ants walking along the trail near the nest Cauê had marked. These turned out to be Mycetagroicus, and we were able to locate their tiny nest entrance. It was actually a few feet away from where we were looking— the whole time we were looking for it we had actually been sitting right on it. Around the same time we found a fourth nest, near the nest Ulrich had unsuccessfully attempted to dig. Ulrich and I began work on the first nest, while Cauê and Andre tackled the other.

Another two days went by without a single fungus chamber, and group morale began to drop. It was already time for us to move on to the next collecting site, a two-day drive away, but everyone agreed we should stay and keep trying to find a fungus chamber. Our food supplies were also getting low, so our dinners became more about sustenance than taste (example: rice and pasta with ham, fried eggs, onions, and tuna. Mmmm!). It just seemed like we were so close to our goal, and we had invested so much of our time—and our sweat—to give up now.

But nearly a week after we arrived at the station, it was decided that we could only afford to stay one more day. Stay any longer, and we would risk having to cut out one of our destinations. We had to find the fungus then, or leave in defeat.

By this point, the pit Ulrich and I were digging was more than 12 feet deep. It was so deep, in fact, that getting in and out had become a real challenge. Even more difficult was removing the dirt from the bottom of the pit to the surface. We invented a system where the digger would load the dirt into a bucket that was tied to a rope, which was then lifted by the other person who stood straddling the pit. It was hard work, and progress was slow.

In order to have enough room to scrape away at the wall of the pit where we had traced the ants’ tunnel, Ulrich was clearing an area for us to stand when he suddenly yelled, “I got something here!”

He had discovered the fungus chamber.

We collected the contents of the chamber, which included hundreds of worker ants the queen, their larvae, and large amounts of the coveted fungus. A few centimeters away we found a second chamber.

Overjoyed and exhausted, we left the field station that afternoon. Although we had accomplished our goal of excavating a Mycetagroicus nest, we will have to wait for the results of genetic analyses to finally know which type of fungus this ant grows, and thereby whether it belongs to the higher or the lower attines. Either way, the results will be interesting, and certainly worth the effort.

Part 2: A different kind of tea party

Leaving the field station in Uberlandia, the Soccer Mom Caravan rolled on—minus Andre, who caught a bus back to Rio Claro—traveling north into the state of Goias where we spent a few days at the fazenda that Catharina and I had visited in April. We were very well received by Lele and his staff, and even got to spend a night at the fishing ranch. We feasted on gourmet grilled goat and wild boar, spotted macaws, toucans, and stingrays, and collected ants and tick bites.

After that, we continued west through Mato Grosso, dropping Ulrich off in Cuiaba where he caught a flight home. From there, the road—the only road—snakes its way west and then north, slowly and imperceptibly descending into the Amazon Basin.

Although we were leaving the savanna habitat known as cerrado and entering the realm of the rainforest, it was difficult to notice the transition because the area visible from the road did not change much. With the exception of the occasional Indian reservation, the landscape was entirely agricultural: cattle pastures, then soybeans and cotton, then cattle pastures again. Driving cross-country really makes you appreciate how little natural habitat there is left in the world, even in the places that look like empty spots on the map.

--

The final destination for the soccer mom caravan was a small city in the state of Rondonia called Ji-Parana. Our contact there was a professor named Beatrice and we met her shortly after arriving. We asked her whether she knew of any areas with relatively undisturbed habitat where we might be able to work. She told us that her father has a farm with intact forest, and she arranged for us to meet with him.

When we arrived at Beatrice’s father’s house, I was certain that something was horribly wrong. Her father stood outside his house with a look on his face that resembled a mixture between shock and outright fury. Wide-eyed and glaring, he shook hands with each of us in turn and then stood there in silence. After what seemed like an eternity, he invited us in with a wave of his hand.

We were invited to sit down in his living room, where we met Beatrice’s mother. She was calm and pleasant, and didn’t seem to be at all upset by whatever it was that was troubling her husband. She offered us coffee and disappeared into the kitchen to prepare it, leaving us with Beatrice and her father, still wide-eyed and staring.

Beatrice explained to her father that we were interested in working on his farm. He listened, staring as intently at her as he had at us, then said nothing. Eventually, he looked at me, then at Cauê, and then me again, and began to speak. He launched into a long, rambling narrative about how he used to be a truck driver and had traveled all over Brazil, eventually settling in Rondonia where he bought a farm.

At times he directed his story toward Ted, who was sitting next to him on the couch. Despite our repeated insitance that Ted doesn’t understand a word of Portuguese, Beatrice’s father would make an emphatic point, gesturing wildly with his hands, and then pause, waiting for a reaction from a very confused Ted.

Eventually we learned that a section of the farm was left undeveloped, and that we were welcome to work there. He would even send along his son to show us the way. The only thing, Beatrice explained, is that the road to the farm is not so good. I asked her whether our station wagon, which is supposed to be designed for limited off-road use, would make it there.

“It will probably make it there,” she said. “But….”

“But what?” I asked.

“It might not make it back.”

--

Beatrice had one more option for us in case the farm was too far or the road there too daunting. After we left her father’s house, she took us to a place just outside town. We pulled off the dirt road and into a driveway, where a giant crucifix was illuminated by colorful Christmas lights.

There was a small church, a courtyard behind it, and beyond that a forest that looked promising. A small group of people were gathered in the courtyard, and Beatrice introduced us to a friendly man with a big smile. He shook our hands enthusiastically and listened as Beatrice explained that we might like to collect ants on the church’s property.

The man told us that we were more than welcome to use the church’s land, and explained that they only use a small section of the forest. It was dark, but he led us anyway across the grass and into the edge of the forest. He pointed out a vine that was growing from one of the trees near the clearing, and explained that they use the vine to make a tea, which they use in their rituals.

Beatrice, who apparently was a church member, inquired whether we might be able to try some of the tea. The man said that yes, we were welcome to come and try their tea, but that the next ritual was not until next week, several days after we would have to leave.

Cauê and I looked at each other in disbelief, suddenly realizing what was going on. We had just been invited to participate in a ritual performed by the Church of Santo Daime. The tea, which they drink during these rituals, contains a drug called Ayahuasca, and is among the most powerful hallucinogens known to man.

--

Despite the genrous invitation from the tea cult guy, we elected instead to work at Beatrice’s father’s farm. This, however, would require a transportation upgrade.

The next morning we rented the vehicle we had wanted all along: a Mitsubishi L200 pickup truck. We piled our gear into the bed of the truck and went to pick up Beatrice’s brother, our appointed guide, who we were told would be ready and waiting for us by 8 AM. Except that he was no where to be found.

We waited impatiently until noon, knowing that our chances of salvaging any substantial fieldwork that day were growing progressively slimmer. Around noon we finally tracked him down, and he said he would be ready to leave after lunch.

So in the bright afternoon sunlight, we left Ji-Parana and made our way across good paved roads to the last town on the edge of the forest, then turned right onto a good dirt road, and then took a series of left turns onto progressively smaller and bumpier dirt roads. As promised, there were several sections that would have been difficult—if not impossible—for our the soccer mom vehicles to pass.

On one of the many bridges we had to cross, Beatrice’s brother advised us that as long as we kept the left tire of the truck on one of the two branches that spanned the gap, we would most likely avoid plummeting into the gaping hole in the middle of the bridge. He was right.

Once we made it into the farm, it became clear that the there was no way in hell our cars would have passed. Ted guided the truck along the road—it was actually more like a trail than a road—as the rest of us bounced around inside like popcorn kernels.

The farm turned out to be a good place to work, despite the killer commute. It had an intact forest that was different than others I have seen in the Amazon. We spent the next three days there, driving white-knuckled both ways along the terrifying dirt road.

Once our work there was completed, we reluctantly returned the truck and the soccer mom caravan headed back towards Rio Claro. On the four day journey home, we reflected on our experiences. It had been a successful trip, and an interesting one.

Only one mystery remained: why the perpetually vacant, wide-eyed stare on Beatrice’s father face? Had he had a stroke? Unlikely. Perhaps this was the long-term effect of drinking tea with the Santo Daime church? Very possibly.

But then we remembered what the old man had said about being a truck driver and spending much of his life driving across Brazil. Having just made a lengthy journey across a substantial chunk of the country, and especially after the harrowing daily commute to the farm, it was easy to relate to such a feeling. Maybe we, too, would return home with a distant, wide-eyed glare, weary from our travels and babbling incessantly about our many adventures.

On second thought, it was probably just the tea.

Pantanal

2008-09-14T13:24:00.010-05:00

RIO CLARO, BRAZIL-- I am back in Brazil, and the ant hunting has kicked into full gear.

Our first stop on our countrywide tour of myrmecological madness was one of Brazil's true ecological gems, known as the Pantanal. This is the place you want to go if you want to fish for 100-pound catfish (or piranhas) and also to see the wildlife that the Amazon region is famous for. This is because many of the species (at least the well-known ones) that occur in the Amazon occur also in the Pantanal, and are in fact much easier to see.

The Pantanal is considered the world's largest wetland, kind of like the Everglades on steroids. Which is why I was so surprised to arrive there and find myself in the middle of a dry, dusty savanna that looked more like Texas than south Florida.

It turns out that in the dry season (roughly equivalent to the spring and summer in North America) the waters for which the Pantanal is famous recede, leaving immense grassy plains. Since the Pantanal is essentially all privately owned ranchland (with the exception of a national park and a few private reserves), these areas are used by grazing cattle during this part of the year, and are then taken to other areas as the rivers begin to spill over their banks.

My colleague and traveling companion, Caue Lopes, who is a Brazilian graduate student and fellow ant enthusiast, and I were more than a little concerned upon arrival once we realized that it was very difficult to find an area that does not flood during the wet season. The evidence for this was clear: every tree, shrub, and fence post had a high water mark on it that in some places was as high as my waist. Needless to say, we found very few of the ants we were looking for, which nest in the ground and have not yet evolved the ability to construct boats.

Fortunately, on day two we visited a nearby ranch that sits on slightly higher ground. It still floods, but there were many small clusters of trees, known locally as capões, that never flood and act like islands during the wet season. So we went island-hopping, across the vast sea of savanna from one forested patch to the next.

These islands were amazing. Each was like a miniature jungle packed with all varieties of wildlife. Upon entering, as soon as your eyes adjust to the relative darkness beneath the canopy, you are immediately struck by a surprise: the forest floor is almost completely open. There is no grass, no bushes, no small trees, nothing. This is due to the ever-present cattle, which use the islands to escape from the intense sun, and munch away on whatever tasty green material tries to make its way toward sunlight. They also trample through the leaflitter and leave not-so-subtle reminders of their presence in the form of cow patties in various stages of decomposition, which makes looking for ants a much more aromatic experience.

Despite this unpleasantry and its ominous implications for the future of the forest islands, the cows did make it much easier to walk around and find ants. And while we did this, very successfully as it turned out, all the other wildlife found us.

We once almost literally ran into a giant anteater, surely one of the oddist creatures on the planet. We also had close encounters with fearless capybaras (world's largest rodent, averaging about 125 lbs), grumpy howler monkeys, gawky rheas (like an ostrich), feisty jabiru storks, spectacular hyacinth macaws, dozens of caimans, hundreds of colorful parrots, and one very large snake.

In all, the experience was much like being on safari, except with fewer things that can eat you. Although I would think twice before going for a swim...

Crazy Ants Invade Houston!

2008-05-22T18:10:00.003-05:00

AUSTIN, TEXAS-- Last week, there was a mild media frenzy surrounding reports of an ant infestation near Houston, Texas. The ants in question are known locally as "crazy rasberry ants" and scientifically as Paratrechina pubens, or Paratrechina species near pubens, depending on who you ask.

The story received so much attention in part due to reports that the ants were attacking electrical devices-- including gas meters, switch boxes, and computers--for "unknown reasons."

In attempt to de-mystify this phenomenon (as well as to satisfy my own curiosity) I wrote an article for Slate magazine's "Explainer" column, in which I address the question, "Why do ants like electronics?"

It was somewhat surprising to me to learn that no one has really investigated the apparent attraction that many ant species have to electronics. Anyone out there looking for a dissertation topic?

No love

2006-04-30T15:16:00.001-05:00

At 4:30 AM this morning, a trail of red lights could be seen making its way through the quiet woods along Lake Austin.

It was nothing spooky, unless the thought of thousands of giant, winged ants crawling all over you gives you the willies. The ants were preparing, or so we thought, for their yearly pre-dawn extravaganza, in which queens and males emerge from underground for the first time in their lives, take flight, and engage in myrmecological mischief.

The queens, which are about an inch and half in length, have just once chance to find a mate (or a few mates, as is usually the case) before searching for a site to dig into the ground and found what will hopefully become their own nest. The odds are against them. Most queens die before establishing a nest, and most of those that do dig a tunnel and set up home do not survive long enough for their first round of eggs to hatch into workers. The mortality rate is estimated to be well over 99 percent.

Sometimes, several queens will join forces, an unusual occurrence among ants. In most ant species, nests are founded by a single queen, and the presence of any individuals from the outside, be it a queen or a worker, is cause for a severe abdomen-kicking.

For the males, this is their last hoorah. Their entire lives have led up to this moment, where they hope to inseminate a single female (hopefully one that will survive) and then it’s goodbye sweet world. Regardless of their success with the ladies, once they fly away from their nest, there’s no chance for further survival.

A peculiarity that has been noted by other researchers is that a small, round cockroach is often seen attached to the queens during their big night. This little roach actually hitches a ride on the queens, holds on for dear life as she flies off into the pre-dawn twilight, and remains firmly attached until she has come to rest inside her new subterranean den. The roach is not known to cause any harm to the ants, and may in fact help her by grooming off any parasites that may exist in those hard-to-reach places.

Together with my Ph.D. advisor and two fellow graduate students, we hoped to observe the mating flight and take samples of the winged males and females as they alighted. We taped red film over our headlamps, which would make our lights invisible to the ants so as not to disturb them.

When we arrived at the large nest at BFL, along the banks of Lake Austin, it appeared that the festivities had been postponed. The nest entrance holes had been enlarged, a good sign of a flight. And there was a lot of activity, with large workers milling about outside the nest. However, very few queens and males could be seen, suggesting that perhaps conditions were less than ideal.

So we sipped coffee as dawn broke over the nest, flicking the occasional ant off our pants. There would be no flight this morning. Perhaps the crisp morning air was a bit too chilly for the cautious queens and males. I can’t blame them for being picky. After all, they only get one shot.