by William Cock

I read that a new plant species are still being found in the Southern Appalachians. Haven’t all the plants been found by now?

-Jane Westrich, Washington, D.C.

In the Southern Appalachians, we are blessed with a botanical bounty that’s nearly unrivaled in the world, Jane. This statement has been repeated so many times before that we’ve become inured to the wealth of species in our own back yards. So I’ll say it again: because of a unique combination of climate, geology, and history, the Southern Appalachians have the highest species diversity of any temperate area on the planet. Our rich and varied fauna aside, we live in a botanical paradise that still yields new species on a regular basis. And with so much flora out there waiting to be discovered, classified, and described, the irony is, we’re probably losing plant species before they can even be found.

In 1998, a nationwide analysis by two University of Wyoming botanists noted that, from 1975-1994, scientists described 1,197 new plants in North America-or about 60 per year. They also noted that the rates of discovery are not slowing down. The Southern Appalachians, with their rugged, ancient landscape, varied climate, and isolated habitats, are prime real estate for plants never before or rarely seen.

According to one estimate, 10 percent of the region’s species (flora and fauna) are yet to be discovered or named. Most of us think the region where we live is nothing special, but our mountains are truly unique. During the last Ice Age, the north-south orientation of the mountains encouraged more northerly species to migrate south, developing side-by-side with southern species. That’s why red spruce and Fraser fir found haven on elevated summits, while magnolia species developed on the lower slopes. A single mountain can have a spruce-fir forest existing right next to a cove hardwood forest, with maybe a heath bald thrown in for good measure.

Endemism, or restriction to a particular locality, is especially high in the mountains. Peaks rise from valleys and form sky islands that breed the genetic isolation that, over the eons, produces new species. Micro-endemism, or restriction to a single mountain, cove, or cliff face, is common. Recently, researchers from the University of Bergen in Norway, found 41 previously unrecorded species of lichen in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. At least eight were new discoveries to science. The lichenologists believe that the Park has the highest diversity of Leparia lichens in the world. These so-called dust lichens grow in extremely wet environments but have a surface tension caused by dust-like particles that makes them impervious to water.

The Smokies serve as a microcosm of the amazing diversity of the Southern Appalachians. In the park, scientists have identified 1,500 species of flowering plants and 4,000 species of non-flowering plants. The latter includes 450 species of brophytes, or mosses, liverworts, and hornworts, and 50 species of fern. The park contains three federally endangered and threatened plants: spreading avens, Virginia spirea, and rock gnome lichen. Another 300 species of vascular, or seed-bearing, plants are considered rare, or restricted to five or fewer populations in the park. Two hundred of the 450 non-vascular plants are considered rare. Outside the park, which at least provides a measure of protection, threatened, endangered, and rare species face an uncertain future. The spreading avens has fan-shaped leaves, yellow blooms, and prefers rock crevices on outcrops or open mountain summits. It also grows in places where people like to walk, scramble, or climb. At the Devil’s Courthouse, near milepost 422 in North Carolina’s stretch of the Blue Ridge Parkway, signs warn visitors to stick to trails to avoid trampling the endangered plant. The rock gnome lichen, a grayish-green plant that grows in just 35 locations in the Southern Appalachians, was placed on the federal endangered species list in 1995. Recently, federal officials declined to designate the places where it’s found “critical habitat” to avoid publicizing its location. They reasoned that it was better to keep the lichens’ locations secret than to create special protection, a move disputed by some conservation groups.

The Southern Appalachians are considered a hot spot for threatened and endangered plant species. Ironically, the region’s very diversity spells trouble for many of its plants. If a plant is inherently rare, meaning its distribution was restricted in the first place, what happens when a hiker unwittingly tramples a remote population or a roadside tourist picks a pretty flower? Generally, federal listings do not protect threatened and endangered plants on private property, so what happens when trees are cut or land is cleared for development? Some conservation organizations, like The Nature Conservancy, focus on buying private property, in large part to protect rare plants and plant communities.

But why should we care about a simple moss, lichen, or flowering plant? Why should we care about the Blue Ridge goldenrod, which exists on only one cliff in North Carolina? A recent study warns that we may be entering the Earth’s sixth big extinction event-and humans are the ones driving the process. Biodiversity is not just an empty word. The loss of each plant means a poorer natural inheritance, a diminished genetic pool, and fewer potential resources. Our folly today means an inferior world for our children tomorrow.

People can usually rally around a plant species, no matter how obscure, if it can be shown to have some value. It’s no joke that the cure for cancer could be found in that lichen you’ve just removed for a better handhold on a cliff face. But ideas such as intrinsic value, or a species inherent right to exist, are a harder sell. So for those of us active in the outdoors, it might be wise to heed the warning signs, whether posted on a scenic overlook or written in a scientific paper. Tread lightly, for those pretty flowers might just be the last ones left.

Charlottesville’s William Cocke is always turning over rocks and rotten logs to see what’s underneath. As a young Boy Scout, he learned that cedar bark makes good tinder and four-of-a-kind beats a full house. He also remembers the Camp-o-ree where he had to kill a live chicken and cook it for dinner. He was not traumatized in the least and has no plans to sue. He can be reached at wtc4q@virginia.edu.